My six-year-old, Max, was once again conversing in his made-up language, “Burritese.” This peculiar dialect consists of him repeating the word “burrito” in various tones and volumes. When he asks a question, he raises the pitch. When he’s disappointed, he lowers his voice dramatically. And when he’s feigning anger, the word comes out in a rapid, high-pitched squeal. He finds it absolutely hilarious. I do not.
This particular Saturday at 8 AM was not the ideal time for his antics. Fresh out of bed and yearning for peace, I was unimpressed with Max’s Burritese chatter. Dressed in his favorite superhero pajamas, he was practically bouncing off the walls, tugging at my pants and pointing at the candy jar perched high on the fridge while repeating “burrito” ad nauseum.
“Max,” I said, trying to maintain my patience. “I just got up. Use English, please. What do you want?”
“Burrito,” he replied cheerfully.
“Great,” I said, crossing my arms. “Then you’ll get nothing.”
Unfazed, he continued to tug at my clothes, as if I would magically comprehend his bizarre language. It was utterly absurd. The boy is articulate; he can read and express his wants when he chooses. As a parent who values clear communication, I often wonder how this silly Burritese helps him think critically or navigate his emotions.
Ironically, despite his fondness for the word “burrito,” he refuses to eat actual burritos. His diet consists primarily of ramen noodles, dinosaur-shaped nuggets, mac and cheese, and the occasional Lucky Charms (mostly the marshmallows, of course). The only exposure he has had to burritos is when they’ve been offered to him, met with a look of sheer horror as if they were a monstrous creature lurking in the shadows.
I can’t help but wonder: how long will this obsession with Burritese last? Will he be that kid in class who answers, “What is the capital of New Mexico?” with “Burrito”? Will he think he’s being witty, while others might find it inappropriate?
I crouched down to his level, gazing into his twinkling blue eyes, and said, “Max, I need you to stop saying ‘burrito’ for the rest of the day. Just tell me what you want in English, and I’ll get it for you. This is a golden opportunity—you could ask for a giant cookie, and I’d deliver. But you have to communicate in a way I can understand. Got it?”
“Burrito,” he shot back, a sly grin spreading across his face, as if to say, “Your offers are amusing, but my fun is priceless!”
I decided to send him to his room, grappling with the question of whether speaking in Burritese deserved punishment. Was I being too harsh as a parent? I reflected on my own childhood, feeling a pang of nostalgia for the times I was teased for my quirky behavior. I remembered the smiles I received from girls, only to ruin those moments with silly antics. Was Max destined to follow a similar path? Would sending him away change the traits I had unwittingly passed down to him?
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In summary, while Max’s quirky language can be frustrating, it also serves as a reminder of the unique traits that make him who he is. As a parent, I strive to balance guidance with acceptance of his individuality, all while navigating the sometimes absurd world of childhood.
Keyphrase: “parenting a quirky child”
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