Da Da Da

On the road to the magical land of spoken language, the kid seems to have pulled over into a rest stop called "Da."

OK, so it's not actually a word, according to my trusty Canadian Oxford Dictionary. Nevertheless, she uses it for an astounding variety of reasons. And when one time doesn't elicit the desired response, she'll repeat it like that novelty song from the '80s: "Da, Da, Da!" And if that still doesn't pay off, she'll start cranking the volume until every "DA!" sounds like it's coming from a loudspeaker the police have set up outside to drive you mad.

Ever the Jane Goodall to babygirl's chimp in the Gombe Reserve our household has become, I've been taking note of all the meanings I think she ascribes to this all-purpose syllable. Here are a few I'm pretty sure of:

• "Feed me!"
• "Feed me more!"
• "What's that?"
• "Who's that?"
• "Give me that!"
• "No, not that. That!"
• "Take me over there!"
• "No, not there. There!"
• "Where's that thing I was just playing with?"
• "Here, you play with this thing!"

Of course, she also uses it like an Irish lass, as shorthand for "Dad." I like that. But she's usually pointing at me when she says it, so it's possible that she's actually saying "Duh." Probably learned that from her mother.