My son doesn't talk with people, he talks at people. This makes dialog with him a trying experience, often frustrating but frequently amusing. Even when there's no one around for him to use as his person to talk to, he still talks. It's like he is constantly recording voice over for his own documentary.
But if you listen closely, he gives you brief glimpses into his complex mind - a place that is equally frightening and fascinating.
Take, for example, his inquiry about dinner. He wanted to know when I was going to make dinner, but rather than ask me and wait for an answer he filled in the blanks on my behalf.
"My belly keeps saying 'when's dinner?' And I said, 'When Daddy makes it.' That's what I told my belly."
He wasn't addressing me. In fact, I don't think he was directing that 19 word speech at any specific person. And he said all of this while walking around in a circle from the kitchen to the dining room, into the living room, then back into the kitchen.
It's as if there is some invisible audience that is oblivious to the workings of human life in all it's absurdities and the fate of all mankind rests in Christian's abilities to explain every detail.
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