Thursday, September 22, 2011

Warmer....Warmer...HOT!

Whoever said that the oldest siblings speak for the baby of the family? My youngest waited until he was three to start talking, and, until now, not one of us had a clue as to what he was trying to say.

Perhaps that is because he wasn't really trying to say anything.  Before he began pointing to ask the usual, "What this?" he played with us. Every time he wanted something, he would scream. Then the game would begin.

Not knowing what he would want, we were reduced to picking up random wine glasses, puzzle pieces, or pencils to show him and silently ask with our raised eyebrows, "Is it this? Or do you want this?"

With each wrong object, he played the "cold, warmer, hot game" by screaming louder and louder until he'd burst into unexplainable laughter.  That's when we knew that we had aimlessly picked up the correct item. Of course.  He wanted an ice cube.

With his recent development of parroting everything we say, we are both relieved and a trifle weary.  Relieved that he finally wants to speak....but weary of our names repeated like a machine gun until we acknowledge him.

Ok, so he decided to speak.  Now time for manners.

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