Squeaky Subway Voices

One of my favorite things about riding the subway every day is seeing the little children hop on and off that metal ship.  Their routine of carrying their lunch boxes and backpacks through the busy mass transit befuddles my image of walking down dirt roads with my siblings to catch a yellow school bus. I'm amazed that this is their childhood.  Amidst the stressed-out adults, I love eavesdropping on the slurred-word conversations of those little ones.

 

 A middle-aged man and his adorable tootsie roll colored hair son sat next to me on the platform today.  Listening to that little four-year-old boy’s squeaky and lisped voice made my entire afternoon. 

“See, son.  We’re going to sit right here and wait for the 2 or the 3 to arrive on that platform right there.” 

“Dat one, Dad?” 

“Yep. That one.” 

“Here’s your sippy cup and some crackers.” 

“What is that you’re eating,  Dad?”

“A candy bar.”

"What's a candy bar?"

"Heaven."

“Is it dry or wet?”

“It’s dry.”

“What’s it talled?” 

“Snickers"

"Dat's a funny name."