Our little guy is talking, and he has fantastic pronunciation. That said, even when we understand him, we don't always get what he's saying. For example, tonight he pointed to the fire in our apartment in Tofino, a great little surf town on the west coast of Vancouver Island, and said, "Happy."
"What?" I asked.
"Happy." He replied. Again. I thought and said aloud, "Oh, Parker is happy! We are on vacation and Parker is having a good time, and Parker is happy. That's great."
And then he looked at me with a face that I'm sure I'll see again, especially during his teenage years. The face that seems to say, "Mama, you're an idiot." However, aloud, he started to sing, "Happy birthday, to you..."
The fire! Candles! Birthday cake. It's so cool to watch your child start to put things together.
"That's right, Parker! When we sing Happy Birthday we light candles with fire, just like in the fireplace." I smiled, shook my head, and beamed with love for this little guy.
"No touch. Hot," Parker added, as he clearly thought I needed a reminder. He's a show-off, but I love him anyway.
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