海角大神

鈥�Ba,鈥� she says.

鈥淲hat do you need, Grace?鈥�

鈥淏补.鈥�

鈥淵ou want a breakfast bar? To eat? Is that it?鈥�

鈥淏补.鈥�

I鈥檓 wrong, but Grace doesn鈥檛 shake her head or say 鈥渘o,鈥� despite the fact that she can do both. She does continue to say 鈥淏a,鈥� however. Many, many times.

A few months ago, Grace, my youngest daughter, didn鈥檛 have much to say. I retired as director of a creative writing program. Now I鈥檓 a freelance writer staying home with Grace while my wife, Maura, teaches. Suddenly, Grace turned 2 and now she speaks all the time. Sort of. She makes noises, anyway. I wish Maura were here. She knows the meaning of all Grace鈥檚 grunts, mumbles, semaphores, and garbled syllables. I don鈥檛. I could use a glossary, or Noam Chomsky on speed dial.

鈥淏补.鈥�

鈥淒o you want a bowl? Of food?鈥�

鈥淏补.鈥�

鈥淪hould we play ball? I鈥檒l go get your soccer ball.鈥�

鈥淣o. Ba!鈥�

Well, at least we have two words now. She鈥檚 getting chatty. This might lead somewhere. The exclamation point is worrying, though. I sense conflict emerging.

Why can鈥檛 I understand my own daughter? I was a professor of English, editor in chief of a magazine, a highly trained expert in words and their usage, but, just between us, I can鈥檛 communicate with a 2-year-old.

I have learned a few things, though. If Grace wants to go higher on the swing, which is invariable, she raises her left arm. She knows the word 鈥渉igher,鈥� but why go to all the trouble to enunciate when you have a perfectly good left arm?

When Grace wants to color, she grips a phantom crayon with her right hand and draws a circle in the air. If she wants food, she says 鈥淢m鈥� and rubs her stomach. I decoded that one quickly, but her method of requesting a drink is more esoteric. She tries to utter a breathy 鈥淎ah,鈥� which 鈥� as far as I can work out 鈥� is the sound I make after taking a sip of coffee. Fair enough, but what she mutters sounds more like 鈥淥oooh,鈥� and it鈥檚 at such a low volume and high speed that interpretation is virtually impossible.

Grace can say the name of everyone in our family, except her own. The 鈥済r鈥� blend isn鈥檛 easy, so I鈥檓 sympathetic, but she won鈥檛 even try. If you ask her who she is, she says 鈥淢e.鈥� If you ask what her actual name is, she says 鈥淢e.鈥� It鈥檚 an infinite regression, like 鈥淏补.鈥� Although I wish Grace would try to pronounce her name, I admire her tenacity and wit. Having found a clever semantic loophole (My name is 鈥淢e鈥�) that鈥檚 easy to say, she sticks with it. You can鈥檛 get frustrated by her stubbornness, especially when she flashes the 鈥淚鈥檓 so cute you can鈥檛 get mad at me鈥� look.

My favorite of Grace鈥檚 new 鈥渨ords鈥� is the fish face. This means she wants to eat Goldfish crackers. She must have worked on it for months, like a stand-up comedian perfecting his Robert De Niro impersonation. Normally, to indicate a particular item of food, she鈥檒l merely point, bring the food to me, or grab my arm and bring me to the food. It鈥檚 gratifying to know that her communication, though nonverbal, is logical and efficient.

Nonetheless, I鈥檓 stymied by 鈥淏a鈥� and scared of 鈥淏a!鈥� Grace doesn鈥檛 want a bowl, bar, or ball, all of which figure prominently in her life. To me they all sound like 鈥淏a,鈥� but apparently she鈥檚 inflecting it in a way that I can鈥檛 hear. Perhaps she鈥檚 speaking another language, one as tonal and nuanced as Cantonese or Igbo.

鈥淏补.鈥�

鈥淏补.鈥�

Grace points to the television and, at the same moment, my 13-year-old, Annie, comes home from school.

鈥淒ad, she wants to watch 鈥楽haun the Sheep.鈥� 鈥�

Ah! It鈥檚 鈥淏aa,鈥� not 鈥淏补.鈥� Grace, more vibrato next time. Or indicate, in some manner, that you鈥檙e using onomatopoeia. Come on, meet me halfway.

When I finish blaming my toddler, I realize how much we鈥檝e learned. I now know what 鈥淏a鈥� means, Annie knows how inept I am, and Grace knows to combine sounds and gestures in order to convey meaning. After all, as linguists are quick to point out, meaning is carried more by tone and other nonverbal signifiers than by content. I鈥檝e known this for a long time, but now I finally understand.