First word?

“What a beautiful little face!” coos a nice old lady in Boots, leaning into the pram, her crooked finger out ready to tickle The Baby’s little cheek. “Oh my, what a lovely smile!”

“Gaaaaaaaay!” shouts Rebel Baby at top of her lungs, for this is her new favourite sound. “Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!”

The lady looks a little taken aback, smiles politely and bumbles off muttering to herself, unsure what just happened.

“Hello gorgeous, are you going to give me a smile?” asks the chirpy man in the camera shop, where RB is having her passport photos done.

“Gaaaaaaaayyyy!!” shouts Rebel Baby, delighted to have an audience. “Gaaaaaaaayyyyyy!”

Mummy cannot decide whether she is going to claim that Rebel Baby has prematurely learned her first word at the tender age of five months and is therefore a genius, or attempt to dismiss it as ‘just a baby noise’ due to The Baby’s tendency to shout it at people in the most inappropriate contexts. In the interests of equality, if she is choosing the former, Mummy will also have to teach The Baby to yell “Straaaaaaaaaight!” which seems a more linguistically challenging accomplishment.

Mummy decides to walk Rebel Baby around the park while she ponders this great dilemma.

“Gaaaay!” shouts Rebel Baby at the ducks on the water.

“Gaaaaaaaaaaaay!” she shouts at the other children, feeding bread to the ducks (which Mummy does not approve of due to the large sign requesting that they do not do this. Mummy silently judges them in a totally British manner, undetectable to the naked eye.)

“Gay! Gay! Gaaaaaaaaay-aaaaaaaay-aaaaaaaay!” shouts Rebel Baby at runners as they jog past, somewhat bemused by the unsolicited judgement they have received.

Mummy has decided that the only proper solution is to invite all of her gay friends round at the earliest possible convenience so that Rebel Baby can appear not only articulate, but also observant and insightful. Yes, that is the only sensible thing to do.

I was so hoping her first word would by “Mummy.”

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