understanding

Tonight at dinner Toby was uncharacteristically eating with his mouth open, and making a rather unpleasant noise (we were eating egg rolls – spring rolls to Brits – so it was a kind of mushy noise). I reminded him that it’s nice to eat with your mouth closed, to which he replied “I don’t understand you”. Pardon? I said. “Dad, I just don’t understand what you’re saying to me.” This was strange, he’s never said that before. I asked him why he didn’t understand. In a very mattter-of-fact way he told me “It’s just because … I’m just so much smaller than you guys. That’s why sometimes I don’t understand.”

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