Another response to a prompt suggestion by Like-an-Officer-and-a-Sergeant over on Tumblr. I think the title speaks for itself.

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Propped up against the pillows of the family’s gold sofa, Angela Turner was the center of attention. She was quite used to such treatment, for she was, after all, the most beautiful baby ever born (her father often told her so), not to mention brilliantly clever (big brother Timothy’s decree) and undeniably charming and captivating (that’s what Mummy said, anyway). Today, however, there was a new reason for her admirers to kneel at her feet.

Angela Turner, at the advanced age of five-and-a-half months, was learning to speak.

“Say ‘Mama,’ Angela darling,” her mother coaxed. Shelagh’s voice was gentle, and Angela turned towards it naturally. “Mama,” Shelagh repeated.

Angela’s eyes were enormous in her sweet face, and her smile revealed two tiny little white tooth buds in her bottom gum. She must have known its effect, for she brandished that smile at all and sundry. She watched her mother’s face, rapt with attention.

“Honestly, Patrick, she said it this very afternoon. It was as clear as a bell.” Shelagh bit her lip in bewilderment.

“She might have done, Shelagh, but you know as well as I that a child of this age isn’t really speaking. They’re simply practicing sounds. ‘Mama’ is an easy one to say. She could just as well be saying ‘dada.’”

Shelagh glanced up from under her lowered brow. “She did not simply repeat a sound, Patrick. Angela’s been babbling for weeks now, I know the difference. Today she looked at me and said “Mama.” Our daughter has said her first word.”Determined, Shelagh reached for the satin-bound baby book by her side and opened it.  

“What are you doing?’ Patrick demanded.

“I’m filling in her first word, of course.”

“Shelagh, you can’t. Angela hasn’t repeated it once this evening.”

With a sigh, Shelagh capped her pen and put the book down. “Very well, then. We’ll just have to show Daddy, won’t we Angel Girl?” She smiled softly at the child and began to repeat the word.

With a quick squeal, Angela began to laugh. Her lips opened and closed, mimicking the face her mother made, and then, it happened. “Mama!” the genius child cried.

Both parents laughed with her. “Patrick, she said it again!”

“Mama. Mama.Mama.” The word filled the sitting room.

After a few moments, Patrick glanced at Shelagh. “I’m still not convinced she’s saying this as a word, Shelagh. Try and see if she can use the word to identify you.”

“Patrick, she’s said my name a thousand times already. Of course, she knows.”

But Patrick would not give up. “Just a small experiment. To prove me wrong.”

That was a wise tactic. He knew no wife could resist the chance to prove her husband wrong.

“Alright, then.” Shelagh rolled her eyes and then knelt down in front of their daughter. “You’ll have to come kneel here as well, Patrick. No complaining. This is your experiment, not mine. Now Angela, darling where is Mama?”

The baby squealed, and cried, “Mama!” Her chubby arm reached for Shelagh’s face.

Trying unsuccessfully to hide the triumph on her face, Shelagh kissed the little hand  and moved to the table with the baby book.

Patrick, a bit crestfallen, decided that while ‘Dada’ may not have been the first word his daughter ever said, he was certain that it would be the second. And immediately.

“Angela sweetheart, say Dada. Dada.” The baby turned her curious eyes to his face and answered, “Mama.”

Now, if  Poor Patrick were in doctor-mode, he would have pointed out to his wife that the certainty of Mama being an actual word had just come under some doubt. But Patrick was not in doctor-mode, he was in full-fledged father-mode. Rather than listen to the sound of reason, he spent the better part of the next half hour repeating himself.

Shelagh watched from the kitchen as she finished the dinner preparations, and was the only one to greet Timothy when he returned from school.

“What’s that all about?” The boy asked, gesturing to his father and sister.

“Your father is upset Angela said her first word today, and he’s trying to make her say ‘Dada’ now.”

Timothy rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure either of you should be rushing to get her to talk, you know. All Angela has to do is look at either of you and she already has you both wrapped around her finger. Besides, once she starts talking, we’ll probably never get her to stop.”

Shelagh smiled sheepishly. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Timmy. Now go and get cleaned up, dinner will be ready in just two ticks.”

A cheer came from the sitting room.

“‘Dada!’ She said ‘Dada!’” Patrick exhaled, delighted.*

Timothy’s eyes rolled up to his eyebrows.”You two. When she learns to walk you’re going to be unbearable.”

 

*From a prompt by Like-an-Officer-and-a-Sergeant