Sin-chhù: role-playing house

Recently, Taikun developed an idea of developing his own world, or “chhù (house)” as I called it. I have proposed this idea to him using the “valley” space between the coach and coffee table in the living room. When he sat in the valley, I told him to imagine his "house"--hiding in this space with a fleece blanket covering over him. We had a lot fun.

Later, he found his way of playing it: he lifted up a sofa mattress and hid underneath it, pretending it’s his home. He would asked me to sit join him, sitting “inside” his home—that is, squeeze myself into the cramped  space on the sofa after a mattress is removed.  

Now, his imagination advanced. He often climbed to my bed playing with the quilt. He rolled the quilt around him and sitting on the bed, as if the rolled quilt was a castle for him. He grinned satisfactorily after the “castle” was completed. He called this as his “sin-chhù (new house)”

Role playing house: Monday, July 29 2013

After dinner he played again his “sin-chhù” on my bed. “Goa beh sin-chhù (I want new house),” he demanded. Holding my hand, he then drag me into my bedroom.

I took this opportunity to interact with him regarding what he should do if this is his house.

“Goa beh goa-e sin-chhù  lāi-té (I want to be inside my new house),” he said, sitting inside the rolled quilt. He also invited me to be in, pointing to an empty space beside him on the quilt, “Papa lai goa-e sin-chhù  lāi-té. Chia ū-chi̍t-ê  ūi (Papa come inside my new house. There is a place [seat] [for you])”

“Kit dih chia (go at there)” [note: should be “lai chia,” come here], he urged. Then I sat beside him on the bed. “A-kun, che-si lihm tau. lí ai chhéng  lâng-kheh lim mi̍h-kiāⁿ (A-kun, this is your house. You have to treat the guest drink something.)”

“Ho-a, li beh lim siahⁿ-mih”? (Okay, what do you want to drink?)”

I pondered, “Goa beh lim chúi. (I’d like to drink water.)”

Then he moved his hands forming some actions, feigning “picking a cup and getting water in it.” Then he “gave” it to me.

I followed, feigning getting the cup and drank it. “to-siā (thank you),” I said.

He then asked quickly again, “Papa, li go beh lim siahⁿ-mih (Papa, you want drink anything else)?” I responded with “kó-chiap (juice).” He repeated all hand movements and gestures, and gave it to me.  I thanked him.

Afterwards we exhausted all liquids I could come up with, such as coffee, tea, milk. I resisted to share with him items he isnot supposed to know now, like “chiú(wine)” or “ bih-luh  (beer).” I’ll save those words after he becomes older.  

After all liquids available to drink I knew were gone, he still inquired “li beh lim siahⁿ.” I then proposed him to ask “li beh  chia̍h siahⁿ (what would you want to eat).” He followed, and then I finished all I could think of, including items he has been eating recently like cheese. To my surprise, when I said oatmeal, he would stand up, going to the front of the bed, “ai thng-sî (need a spoon.)” then he “gave” me all things together. After prompted with peach, he got me a fork, “the̍h chhiám-á”, since peach is served in pieces with a fork aside.

Later I know this is called “house” (orままごと in Japanese). I think this is a good practice for developing inter-personal relationships. He adapt to different situations---interacting with me differently with different items.

Tuesday, July 30 2013

This morning when T and I were still sleeping, he climbed up to our bed, wanting to build his sin-chhù.  When he acquired his building materials by removing the quilt from us, T protested that she felt cold wanting it back.

I also complained to him that , “ A-kun, Lih thau-the̍h goa e mî-phōe. Hō goa (You stole my blanket. Give it to me)”

He looked surprised. “Huh?  ji̍t-thâu (the sun?)”

We all cracked up.

I guess this is his first experience of building “a man cave,” or a “secret base” as named by Taiwanese or Japanese people reminiscent in their boyhood.