Big Questions for a little brain

Lucas has recently started to ask the Big questions. And whereas some children start relatively small and ease into it, Lucas would not have been Lucas if he would follow such a pathway. Hís first Big question was this: "Zijn tomaten nou fruit of groente?" (Is a tomato a kind of fruit or a vegetable?).
Now, I can deal with difficult questions, but unfortunately his need for answers is not easily met. For example, concerning the extinction of dinosaurs, he's less than happy to find out that scientists do not have a definite answer as of yet. He keeps pressing me for information, as according to him, I must know more. "Nee mama, jij moet meer vertellen." "Jij weet het wél." (No mommy, you have to tell me more. You dó know). One of my solutions to this is to ask him what he thinks. So, let it be known that a moon fell on earth and killed all dinosaurs. Also, tomatoes are a fruit, and baby's are born through your belly button, which hurts, but only for a second. Just thought I'd share the answers to Lucas' Life Questions with you.

With this in mind, I remembered an old poem I once wrote. On occasion, Lucas is having monster nightmares, and recently he wondered why mommy and daddy get to sleep together, whereas he had to sleep all alone.

Monsters

Mam zegt dat monsters niet bestaan,
maar hoe weet zij dat nou?
Als ze mijn kamer binnenkomt, verdwijnen ze heel gauw.
Ze springen in de kasten,
en laden bovendien.
Ze laten niets meer van zich horen, laten zich niet zien.
Totdat ze me een kusje geeft,
en weer naar papa gaat,
dan komen ze tevoorschijn, en worden heel erg kwaad.
Nee, papa heeft maar geluk,
dat mama bij hem ligt.
Bij hem zijn kasten werk'lijk leeg en blijven laden dicht.

The Stairmaster: mastering the stairs

I've started training at the YMCA recently. I must say I am close to getting addicted to my workouts. Not in the least because they have absolutely everything there: I can choose an infinite number of interesting workouts, I don't need to take towels or drinks, I can watch television on virtually all the fitness equipment, I can bring the children to their free daycare, and I am met by nice instructors who in no way resemble a soldier, a construction worker, a cowboy or some other sort of Village idiot. And contrary to Dutch standards, the gym here is not full of young men flinching their muscles in an attempt to pick up the unnatural blonde on the elliptical who - next to her perfect body - apparently also suffers from a lack of sweat glands. Instead, the Y is filled with older people, some even quite old. And it is endearing to watch an oldie take up to ten minutes to get up on the treadmill, only to see their walking sticks fall of the minute they start walking. Needless to say, I help out on these occasions.

Because it's always good to incorporate new routines in your workout program, I make a habit out of trying new equipment. But until recently, I was hesitant to use the Stairmaster, an apparatus that requires you to walk an endless staircase. It is, by all standards, the worst fitness apparatus ever, a fate worse than Hell. But in an attempt to conquer my fears, this week I finally went to Hell and back, taking the stairs to what the apparatus said was the 48th floor in a 15-minute-feels-like-15-hours perish-and-die moment. And to make matters worse, instead of feeling invigorated after my workout, it left me confused. Because did I actually walk up to the 48th floor, or should I take into consideration the fact that the United States usually calls ground level 'first floor'? Because that would mean that I only walked up to the 47th floor. It might seem insignificant to you, but if I ever want to partake in the 'stairs run competition' in the Erasmusgebouw in Nijmegen, I need to know my limits. I guess I have to conquer Hell again in another session of the Stairmaster. Stay tuned for Stairmaster: the sequel.

O, and you must agree with me that there is some irony in the fact that Lucas refers to the daycare at the Y as 'de sportschool'? He'll start his own workout routine soon though, as swimming lessons will commence in spring and he really wants to play soccer there as well.

Excommunication

When you are expecting your first child, everything is exciting and extraordinary. You're totally exhilarated, don't know what to expect (except the obvious) and in case you're me, you tend to examine all kinds of tables with examples of age-related milestones. Now, when you're expecting your second born, things are a little different. Because, of course, you know what to expect, right? But that's just what you think. You are better off not expecting to know what to expect and you should definitely refrain from extrapolating from your previous experiences. Because the existence of 50% gene-overlap counts for exactly nothing. Zero that is.

For example, my first born exceeded my expectations concerning his expressive language development. At 19 months his vocabulary consisted of an exceptionally well pronounced 300-something words, some words more exclusive than others (can anybody explain why a child this age would need the word 'label'?). Now, I honestly did not expect my second born to be exactly the same. And it is not that he is at the other extreme with no words to express himself. But his pronunciation is extraordinary, exquisite and very exclusive (or in this case, I should say very INclusive), with most words falling into either one of three categories: auto, tuttel and behh.

Within the category 'auto':

ootoo (auto/car)

tatooh (tractor/tractor)

otoonn (open/open)

ootehh (oma/grandma)

tootehh (broodje/bread)

tooteh (vogel/bird)

The category 'tuttel' (cuddly blanket):

tuttehh (tuttel/cuddly blanket)

titteh (zitten/sit)

tietuh (vliegtuig, airplane)

ditteh (drinken/drink)

ditteh/dit (dicht/shut)

tietteh (fiets/bike)

tuiteh (buiten/outside)

tuttah (Lucas/Lucas) (who - by the way - does not appreciate being called a cuddly blanket)

thitheh (visje/fish)

tijteh (kijken/look)

And the category 'behh':

bah (bah/bwegh)

boo (boom/tree)

ba (bal/ball)

bui (buik/tummy)

The less exclusive, 'other' category:

nee (no), o-o!, kaaa! (klaar/done), koe (cow), jaaa! (lamp/lamp), kaa! (kaas/cheese), papa (daddy), mama (mommy, toettoet (sound of car), aai (hug), kie-ke-boe (peekaboo), haa (haar/hair), tnnn (teen/toe), neu (neus/nose), pepehh (piemel/private parts), wawa (hond/dog)

And last, and also least category 'English':

car, go, eaja (ear), choochoo, hi

Think I'm exaggerating? You'll just have to excuse me.

The truth is out there, so lie to me

While conducting a literature search on the development of cohesion in children I stumbled upon an interesting paper on lying and the use of 'um'. Even though it didn't have any relation whatsoever to the things I was looking for, I couldn't resist the urge to read the paper. But who wouldn't be interested in a paper with the title: 'Use of "um" in the deceptive speech of a convicted murderer', or  'Lies, lies and more lies' for that matter (both by Villar and colleagues). I have always thought that the use of um was a filler, used in order to organize one's thoughts. With this idea in mind, you would expect 'umming' all over the place in case of a lie. But the research by Villar and colleagues shows that umming is actually reduced when people lie compared to when they tell the truth. Their results are based on an experiment in which they told subjects to either lie or tell the truth about an opinion they held, but also based on a comprehensive analysis of truths and lies in police transcripts of a convicted murderer. How's that for a subject? In view of their results, Villar and colleagues argue that the use of um should be regarded as part of authentic, natural communication, which is lacking when one is lying.

Now, when we just moved to the United States we found an interesting television series 'Lie to me' in which Dr. Cal Lightman uses microexpressions (involuntary facial expressions of emotions that last about 1/25 to 1/15 of a second) and body gestures to investigate criminal cases. Wouldn't he be thrilled to be able to use umming as a lie detector?

Suspect: Well, ummm...
Dr. Cal: That's a LIE!
Suspect: but, ummm...
Dr. Cal: Another lie!
Suspect: could you at least let me finish it?

In addition, it also reminded me of a game often played on radio shows in which a person has to talk for one minute without saying 'um'. Apparently, the solution for winning the game is lying.

While on the subject of bad behavior, today I had to reprimand Lucas for refusing to get into the car which was followed by a screaming fit. Once I managed to get him into his car seat: "Sorry mommy. I won't scream anymore, mommy, and I won't yell anymore. And I won't... I won't... Mommy, what else did I do?"

Talk about...

Lucas' talk.

Lately, I haven't given you any updates on the progress in English (and Dutch too) he's been making, so this blog is dedicated to him. In Dutch his favorite words include 'denk ik' (I think) and 'eigenlijk' (actually). Also, he's been working on his subordinate clauses with 'omdat' (because), which I think is actually a big coincidence, because I'm currently working on a project to get normative data on the Dutch RTNA (Renfrew Taalsschalen Nederlandse Aanpassing; Renfrew Language Scales) and get to see all kinds of data on subordinate clauses of children aged 4 to 8.

But... back to Lucas' talk:

If you can count it, you can have it:
all the numbers from one to 14, but mostly the following sequence: 'een, twee, drie, vier, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven'
Apparently, this is precisely what should happen according to second language acquisition theories as a friend who just finished his PhD thesis on code switching told me. But for those of you who are interested in the code-switching thing, you'll have to wait for my column in the Tijdschrift voor Orthopedagogiek.

Do's and don'ts:
jumpen, flyen, sit, march, have, want, drink, look, sleep, come, run

The more the merrier: add 'm ons:

little, big, more, blue, red, yellow (pronounced lello), purple, up, down, fast

Under my bed:
butterfly, bumblebee, ladybug, monkey, elephant, doggie, cat, dinosaur, dragon, rabbit (no, it ain't a bunny, it's a frog)

I want to ride on a..:
firetruck

But also in a:
bus, car, bike, airplane, choochoo train (AKA choochoo, AKA train, AKA Thomas)

Say it nicely:
thank you, please, good morning, hi, bye bye, my name is...,

But if you don't:
no (pronounced with an exclamation mark at the end), yes, come on, stop it, high five, everybody sit down, hands up, let's go, go away, ready, set, go! who's that? I want

Own up:
mine (accompanied by hitting if necessary), my, I, you (the last one only in combination with the aforementioned other own ups)

Grown up:
daddy, mommy, miss, doctor


And then some:
shoe, hat, crackers, ball (pronounced bow), moon, star, rain


Not quite there yet:
rainboog, sandbax

Music to my ears:
the wheels of the bus-song, twinkle twinkle little star, abc-song (although the double u is sung as hebbayou and results in a indefinite loop involving hebbeayous unless we manage to save him), five little monkeys are jumping on the bed, happy birthday to you, jingle bells, itsy bitsy spider, the ants go marching in, caring hearts song

First home-made sentence: I have cars (uttered on 1 july, 2011)

And I know I forgot a lot of things, so I'll post another blog soon.

USAccident part II

Hurray, finally! We've got ourselves another accident report (or as a friend suggested, a 'gewondheidsverklaring'). I thought we'd never get another. Is it just me, or are you wondering how Kwint managed to hit his foot against his forehead too. Limber dude right?




Related to accident issues, my eldest son is an avid insect hugger, which can be potentially harmful both for insects and Lucas. Yesterday we were playing outside when he found a fly.

Lucas: "Look mom, a fly."
Me: (basking in the sun with my eyes closed) "Good for you, hon!"
Lucas: "Look mom, I put in on my hand."
Me: (still eyes closed) "That's nice."
Lucas: (more insistent) "Look!"
Me: (ok, this cannot be ignored). "Ah, cool"
Me: (upon closer look) "Uhm, hon, I don't think that's a fly." "It's a wasp."
Me: (definitely trying not to panic). "It's not such a good idea to put wasps on your hand, Lucas. They can sting. Anyway, I think the wasp is tired, we should put it in the bush here."

Lucas: "Yes, the wasp is tired. It needs to go to sleep." "And after he wakes, he can watch some television, right mom?"

And on a completely different note: I got invited to attend a private Botox party. Dubious honor I know. But if they manage to get 15 people to attend, we all get a discount AND free appetizers. Now, who can refuse that?

It's my way or the highway

Kwint:"Grrrrr."
Me: "O really, is that so?"
Kwint: "Dadadadaa."
Me: "Well whaddaya know"
Kwint: "Tata. Bwww."
Just a sample of the conversations I have with my youngest (11 months). But I suspect he's hiding the truth from me: that he can actually say real words. I know it, because of these little amused smiles he gives me when I try to coax the word mama out of him. "Mama! Say ma-ma! You can do it, ma-ma!" But instead, he winks, curls his nose and proudly pronounces me 'Bwwwww'. And when you think you've heard it all, then let me tell you what he does next. He turns his head ever so slightly, clacks his tongue and looks me in the eye expectantly. And what else can I do but clack back?

Although I can't keep up with Lucas' developing language, here are some samples:

"kijk mama, een doggie!"
"I love youuu"
"Dat is mine he?"
"Who's dit?"
"Ik wil jou een hug geven"
"Everybody SIT DOWN." (Now where would that come from?)

And of course, all the words from 'Happy birthday to you'. Although, really, there aren't that many different words in that song.

When we're on the subject of stubborn minds, I might as well talk about a conversation I had with Lucas, aka mister Negotiator. He still has these afternoon naps (of three hours!), and I recently started waking him before the three hours are up. But the little man does not like that. So following a careful wake-up procedure involving hugs, kisses, tickles and whatnot, I have to lure him out of bed.
"Maybe you want to watch a little television?"
Lucas: "Welllllll, no, I don't think so."
"Hmmm." Feverishly looking for alternative bait... "Some crackers?"
Lucas: "Wellllll, no. I don't think so." (a moment of silence). "But I want some cookies."

Mirror mirror...

At only two years of age (ok, technically he turns three in about two weeks), my son is like the enchanted mirror from Snow White. Unfortunately, he doesn't say what you want to hear, but uses your own words against you. Thus, today while he used a reflex hammer to hit his father on the head, he triumphantly stated: "Doesn't hurt!" I wonder what hurt his father more: the reflex hammer or his own words being thrown into his face? Of course my son was a doctor and was in the process of healing daddy. And the fact that that required the use of force was a necessary evil.  But my guess is that the words hurt more. Because my son is an absolute master in using your own words against you, which turns out to be lethal in combination with his ability to sense it when you're lying. But no worries, the lethal moments are nothing compared to the hilarious scenarios it also produces. For instance, just a second ago, he saw me writing on his dad's laptop. His first question was aimed to get his facts checked: "Is dat papa's joeter?" (Is that dad' s computer?") After confirming his suspicions, he swiftly knocked me out with the following statement: "MAG jij op papa's joeter?" (Are you allowed to go on dad's computer?) with emphasis on the word 'mag'. Because he is perfectly aware that he is not allowed to go on dad's computer. Ergo, nobody is allowed to do that. So, apparently, it's not only looking at your mirror image when you see your child. It's like listening to your mirror image as well. Sounds schizophrenic, doesn't it?

Gotta go now...my mirror image is calling me.

A day in L.A.

As I might have mentioned before, I have been planning a trip to L.A. in order to attend a workshop on the Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule (ADOS). And I have been there! And came back! The summary of my trip? I met a lot of interesting people, I learned a lot, I saw a lot, and waited even more.

For those of you more interested in a more in-depth analysis here it comes:

Interesting people:

There were people from all around, including Japan. This turned out to be very unfortunate since the news of the earthquake and subsequent tsunami hit us on the second day of the workshop. Although definitely not comparable to the disaster in Japan, the coastal area of California (where we live) also got a warning sign because of the tsunami. But fortunately the effect of the tsunami was negligible in the Bay area.

At the workshop, I've talked to several people, all of whom had interesting stories. Of course most people were working in the field of autism, so it was not difficult to find some common ground. In addition I sorta 'met' two children, who were part of the live demonstration of the ADOS. Isn't it amazing that the kids got up on stage in order to be assessed with the ADOS in front of a hundred people? Even more so when you think that there were quite a few people in the audience who declined the opportunity to talk into the microphone.  Really! I'm not kidding. They were afraid to talk into the microphone to discuss their ideas and passed it to someone next to them who did not show microphonebia.

Things I've learned:

I am now familiar with the ADOS. It has to be said that it is an amazing instrument with a lot of potential. But it is also very difficult to score it in a reliable fashion. The ADOS consists of semi-structured tasks that try to provoke a certain type of social or communicative behavior in a semi-natural way. Although it has specific tasks, you don't actually score the actual performance on these tasks, but score the overall behavior you saw during the session. This has many advantages, but it means it's also difficult to asses whether some type of behavior was good enough to give full credit. Since the main difficulty of the instrument lies in its scoring, most of the workshop was dedicated to discussion on the scoring of the live demonstrations. As stated, we had to discuss our findings within the group. Yes, with the microphone. In addition to my new DSM classification of microphonebia, I also found out that people see very different things even when they are looking at the same thing. It wasn't just differences in opinion concerning the label of 'slightly unusual behavior' and 'normal behavior', scoring went from 'normal behavior' to 'downright off-the-wall behavior'. Especially when we got to talking about stereotyped behavior and specific interests, people differed in their observations and interpretations. The interesting thing was, once somebody saw one particular behavior that was considered to be stereotyped, other people joined with other examples and so the list got longer and longer. So the main thing I've learned concerning the ADOS, it requires a lot of practice. Not to administer it, but to score it.

Another important thing I've learned: remember your room number when you stay in a hotel.

Things I saw:

(not uncommon) psychologists playing a game on their iPhone or Smart phone during the workshop. Makes you wonder whether they do the same during a psychological assessment or interview with parents...

L.A. by night on a tour bus. This was a lot of fun, especially since some other people from the workshop also got on the same tour. We've seen it all. Well, ok, technically we mainly saw Hollywood. But that was amazing. Film sets, Universal City, the Chinese theatre (with the hand prints), the place where the Oscars are being held, the walk of fame (with the stars), you name it. Oh and we've seen 'tha ghetto' although that was not in the original itinerary. During our ride back to the hotel, we found ourselves in the midst of a huge traffic accident and we had to find an exit. This exit consisted of our tour bus going from the far left lane to the outer right lane in the midst of all the confusion (yes we had close calls), and exiting straight into the ghetto. Not that we saw scary things or anything.

Things I waited for:

Not for the food. Boy, they serve things quickly around here. But I did wait for airplanes, checks, lectures, breaks, toilet visits (there were about a hundred people visiting a social oriented workshop, you guess which line was longest, the boy's or the girl's...).

Featuring Lucas' talk. He's getting the hang of this English thing, and the translation of it:

Dad (to Kwint): "Nee, dat mag niet."

Lucas: "nee is no he? NO!"

Lucas: "Flyyyyyyy!"

Lucas: "wiels of de bus go wound en wound... up en down"

Lucas: "Mama, kijk! Mommy, look!"

Lucas (hoort een slaapmuziekje op de radio): "Sleep, sleep!"

Mama: "Kijk Lucas, dat zijn twee auto's. Two cars."

Lucas: "Dat is een twocar he?"

And funny Dutch things:

Lucas: "Mama, waar is de radido?"

Lucas: "Ik wil graag naar papa toe."

Crouching tiger, hidden dragon

Remember my blog about crouching tiger? Meet hidden dragon. He is crouching tiger's big brother.

Featuring Lucas' talk (both Dutch and English):

In the aquarium:
Lucas: "Waar is papa?"
Ik: "Papa geeft Kwint even een schone luier, hij is even met Kwint naar de w.c."
Lucas: (met een hele hoge stem) "Een hele kleine w.c., he, voor Kwint?"


At home:
Ik: "Lucas, give me high five!"
Lucas: (gives me high five) "Ten! Dat is ten, he?"

Ik: "Lucas, je mag nog heel even spelen, daarna ga je naar bed."
Lucas: "Mag ik nog een heleboel spelen?"

Lucas: "Wil jij ook neus peuteren?"

A case of late onset separation anxiety

Today was the big day: Kwint's first daycare day. No more mommy, enter big bad world. He's been with me for the last 3 to 4 months, since we took him out of daycare in October after our house got sold, Bart moved to California, and I temporarily moved in with my parents. He hasn't seen too many strangers during these months, and I wasn't too sure how his happy demeanor would be affected when I wouldn't be there.

Sure thing, we stumbled into a major case of separation anxiety. Separation anxiety, for those of you unfamiliar with the concept, is a normal developmental stage in which a child becomes frightened when they enter an unfamliar place or meet unfamiliar people. Obviously, the anxiety is most notable when the child is separated from its parents, hence separation anxiety.
In our case, we're talking about roaming emotions such as feelings of being abandoned, feeling unloved and a general feeling of total loss, in need of reassurance. Yep, I felt it all. And Kwint? He had a lovely day at daycare, was showing everybody his cute smiles and came home a happy baby.
My diagnosis: late onset separation anxiety.

In the category Lucas-talk:

Lucas: "Mama, ik wil je borsten zien."
Ik: "Nou Lucas dat is niet zo netjes om te vragen."
Lucas: "Mama, mag ik je borsten zien?"

In de Ikea
Ik: "Kijk Lucas, daar staat jouw bed. Dat is precies dezelfde."
Lucas (in de auto op de terugweg van de Ikea): "Nou kan ik niet meer slapen thuis. Bed niet thuis."

To dabble in scrabble

Instead of a pseudo-scientific blog, I thought I'd try a folkore blog with us being in a different culture and all. The problem is that I have not seen many folkloristic/cultural things here (if you don't count the occasional American flag, or patriotic car sticker). So you have to settle for old traditional board games. Enter Scrabble. Of all the nice games we have (Colonists, Munchkin, Carcassonne and such), Scrabble is just an old favourite. It's loads of fun to try to create long, weird words that boggle your mind and the mind of your opponent ("Is that even a word?"). Since we've moved to California we agreed that Scrabble should be played in English rather than Dutch. This made me question whether the distribution of letters would differ for both languages. I know you would agree with me that this is something that would fit smugly within the category of 'useless knowledge', but here it comes. The frequence of almost all letters differs for both languages, but the most notable differences can be found in the letters E and N (which have the highest frequency in the Dutch version), and the letters A and I (which have the highest frequency in the English version). When you think about it, it's not so strange, since these letters have high frequency in either Dutch or English. By the way, did you know that if you play all seven letters on your plate, it's called Bingo?
We admit to having cheated for an English word with the letter X. This also happens to be the letter which Lucas has learned last week.

In the category learning English, this is what Lucas came up with:

"Mag ik een toesjoe?" (by which he probably refers to a tissue)

For plain-old Dutch phrases:

Sinosaurus (his favourite animal at the moment)

So, maybe I should stick with pseudo-scientific blogs, right?

Crouching tiger, hidden talent

So, of course I know my children to be very bright. VERY bright :-) As any mother does. Lucas (2;9 yrs) finds letters and words very interesting, so we've started importing alphabet books from the Netherlands. Now, I thought I would hold off teaching letters to Kwint (9 months) until he could walk. But whaddaya know, the dude already reads! He devours whole books. First, he carefully opens the book with his little fingers. This is followed  by a close scrutiny of the pictures and words. After he approves of the subject of the book (of course not all books are equally interesting), he prudently tastes the sounds of the letters by licking the words on the first page. Then it's off to the next page. What an appetite for learning, eh!

In keeping with today's subject of reading, I can't hold this from y'all:
Lucas: (looking through the pages of the thesis his father wrote) "Dit is onzin, he mama?"

Oodles of noodles

Since the previous blog might have scared some of you off, I thought I should discuss a more mundane subject one this blog. So there it is, I will write about noodles. Rice noodles to be more specific. Cause don't you just hate the mess they make when you try to make yourself a simple soup? Before you know it, your kitchen looks like a giant mikado-fair which has just been hit by a hurricane. And what's with the whole portions-thing? As these 'separate' portions are impossible to disentangle, why do they bother?

Now, the reason I named this blog 'Oodles of noodles' is a dream I've had for a long time while writing my thesis. Whenever I felt a bit down, I imagined starting a little Asian restaurant and naming it 'Oodles of Noodles'. So, this name just happened to pop up in my head recently, and I thought I'd just give it a google. And whaddaya know, there are plenty of restaurants with that name. Darn. Oh well, I liked the idea mostly because of the name.


So featuring Lucas's language we've been having interesting pieces of conversations lately:

Lucas:   "De warming is aan. Hij doet fww" (verwarming)

Ik:         "En wat komt er dan door de verwarming?"

Lucas:    (grote ogen) "VUUR!"

"Het ligt op de table."

Lucas: "Een ei!"

Ik:       "Ja, en weet je hoe ze dat bij jou op school noemen?"

Lucas: "Nee."

Ik:       "Een egg."

Lucas: "Neeeeeeee"

Lucas: "Zometeen komt de zon weer op, he?"
Ik:       "Nee joh, het is nu nacht, jij gaat zo lekker slapen. De zon is ook aan het slapen."
Lucas: "Waar is het bedje van de zon?"
Ik:       "Nou uhhh...de zon is helemaal boven geweest in de lucht, en toen ging hij helemaal naar beneden,
            en nu slaapt hij in zijn bedje aan de horizon".
Lucas: "Twee zonnen he?"

Lost in translation

So Lucas is starting to use more English words.. That's good right? Well, the problem is, some things get lost in translation. His new (understandable) English vocabulary includes:

• byebye
• yes
• dank you (we'll have to work on that one)
• Larry (dunno if we'll use that often)
• mommy

So, ok that might not be that much, but we're getting somewhere. In Dutch he's able to produce very complex sentences (sometimes also non-understandable). His latest funny remark:

• "Ik ga in wandelen". So this would be the equivalent of going outside for a walk, only then inside.
• He's crazy about cars, and luckily they've got lots of those around here. His favourite in traffic? "Een jeeps".