Ba-Ba-Ba-Ba, Barbara Ann

4 09 2009

I introduced my daughter to The Beach Boys (on vinyl of course) when she was 4 weeks old, and it is going to pay off sooner as well as later. And it will probably piss off Zahra — sooner as well as later.

For those of you who identify culturally a bit more with the Missourian in this relationship rather than the Iranian, I’ll catch you up.

Zahra and I decided that we would make sure our daughter spoke Farsi as well as English. Zahra will do most of the teaching (along with the hundreds of cousins who live around here), but I will do my best to learn more than a few words along with my daughter. To that end, we’re identifying ourselves as Maman and Baba. Mommy = Maman. Daddy = Baba. You see where I’m going with this?

I won’t give The Beach Boys all the credit, but being able to sing “Ba-Ba-Ba-Ba, Barbara Ann” to my daughter in the mornings and evenings is not hurting the odds that her first name calling is going to be directed at me. In fact, she’s already babbling enough that if I was so inclined I could lay claim as the object of her first word. Trouble is stopping. She gets the “ba-ba” out and just keeps going “ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-baaaaaaaaa-arrrrrrrrrrrrr-gueeeeeeeeee…”

But when she stops at “Baba” and looks my way, I’ll melt.

Then, I’ll set her down beside me in front of the record player, and spin some Dylan. “Owwwwwwwwwww duzzzzzzzzzzzzzz it feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel?” she will ask me. God I love my daughter.

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