The Patience Vignettes- Part I

“You are gorgeous! Are you gorgeous? Yes you are, you’re booful! You’re booful!”
“Angela!” Angela turned far too innocent eyes to her best friend. “What are you doing?”
“I’m talking to her. Aren’t I talking to you, my little cutie pookies?”
“No, no.” Temperance walked to the crib, “You should never speak baby-talk to a baby.”
“Jeez, Bones,” and Booth joined the baby admirers, “Lighten up. Who else can you talk baby-talk to other than a baby?”
“That’s not the point,” insisted Bones, turning her ‘lecture face’ on her husband, “It’s a pointless effort to make up a fake language with no logical differences, just to speak it to a child who should be learning English.”
“Ah, no…” Booth looked shell-shocked.
“Are you talking about Baby-talk?” asked Hodgins, jogging up to the crib gang.
“Yes.” Said Angela with no real enthusiasm.
“Did you know that a secret branch of the government trains their spies to take secret messages in a code disguised as baby-talk?” This comment was treated with the silent contempt it deserved.
“Where did you dig that one up?” Angela raised her eyebrows.
You don’t believe me, fine, but just think what you may be saying to that kid right now.” “Hodgins…” Angela rolled her eyes.
“Okay,” Said Hodgins flatly, “But seriously, you’re totally screwing up the kid’s brain.”
“Hodgins is right,” Said Bones grudgingly, “It’s anti-productive to speak baby-talk.”
“C’mon, Bones.” Booth put his arm around her in an ill-planned attempt at a calming influence. “It can’t be that bad.”
Big mistake.
“Don’t sound that way.”
“What way?”
“All pompous and ‘take a cool pill, Bones’, and pedantic.”
“Okay, first off, it’s ‘chill pill’, and secondly,” he dodged the glare, “I wasn’t sounding Portentous.”
“Pompous.”
“Yeah, that! I wasn’t.”
“You were implying that the fate of our child’s linguistic skills was less important than you getting to speak baby talk!”
“I was not implying- I was just saying that I don’t see the harm in a bit of baby-talk!”
“Exactly.” Said Angela.
“Are you kidding, you’re like, rotting the kid’s brain cells.” Hodgins grinned wickedly. “Hey, did you hear- ” This was wiped out by the continuing disagreement.
“I’m not rotting her brain cells, I’m just talking baby-talk!”
“But you’re influencing her future verbal abilities every time you talk to her with baby-talk!”
“Hey, does anyone but me think that ‘baby-talk’ is one of those things that can only be said so many times before it starts to sound really stupid?” asked Angela, popping a mint, “You know, like ‘gummy bear’?”
“What?” asked both parents in unison.
Zach had been listening silently, and now said thoughtfully, “My parents never spoke baby-talk to me.”
There was a long moment when no one spoke. The Booth picked up Patience. And silently carried her to Bones. The quiet continued as the held her between them.
“Um,” said Booth carefully, “Who’s my little bookie-bear? Are you my little bookie-bear?”
“Are you Daddy’s little bookie-bear?” Asked Bones with utter sincerity.
And Patience said, “Glaahh-ah-hah!”
And that settled it.