Word-nerd father helps son build ‘spectacular’ vocabulary

When we borrowed a pickup and trailer for a move this summer, my boy, like most his age, immediately assumed we’d gotten him a brand new toy.

Seems like every time I turned around he was clomping around atop the trailer or was running around the truck, opening and closing the windows on the camper shell.

The cab was louder than usual on one trip to the storage unit. Noticing that I was looking around for an open window, Gabe asked if I wanted him to shut the one he’d opened in the back.

I again told him to stop playing with the windows.

“Why? I’m not going to break it,” came the reply.

“Probably not,” I told him then paused to summon an explanation. “But if you did then it would be broken because you did something you didn’t need to do. When you borrow something from someone you should use it as little as possible.”

Gabe’s kind of verbal like that. I’d been modeling that behavior for him for two days. But he needed me to say it out loud. It’s tough sometimes. I honestly hadn’t thought about it until just then, not realizing I’d have to articulate why I was treating the truck so gently.

A similar thing goes on with language. One of the few things I remember from my childhood is bristling when adults talked down to me. An early birthday card drawn by my aunt features a picture of me looking sullen and using the word “degrading” to describe a sign wishing me a happy birthday on which the “R” was backwards and the letters sloppily drawn.

My parents thought it was hilarious.

When I became Gabe’s dad he was already 4 years old. I made a conscious decision not to talk down to him. I use the same inflection I use with adults. I cut back on some of the big words but not by much.

Gabe has responded to this by asking for definitions pretty frequently. It’s to the point now where he gets kind of upset when I don’t immediately define words I’ve used in conversation. I can understand his frustration and try to define things quickly.

Usually, though, I’m only pausing because I need to define it for myself. Most of my vocabulary was just absorbed through reading. So in many cases I know I’m using a word correctly but draw a blank if asked what it means.

This process has produced some impromptu definitions I’m pretty proud of. Some of my favorites:

Baton: n. — A fancy stick.

Optimal: adj. — perfect or nearly so

Frontmen: pl. n. — people who talk so that people with power can stay quiet.

White Collar: adj. — people who work but not with their hands

Treason: n. — something a person does to destroy his country.

And you know what? Gabe has a startlingly large vocabulary. He’s constantly surprising me with words like “defeated” or “bonding” or “spectacular.”

I’m starting to understand a little better why my parents laughed so hard when I tossed out words more sophisticated than a child has a right to use. It’s really only a matter of time before Gabe gets a birthday card of himself looking sullen.

Andrew Wellner is father to two sons, Gabe, 10, and Ivan turned one Sept. 22.