Books

Yes, Iain is wearing possibly the MOST ADORABLE black corduroy overalls ever made. Ever. But that's not the point.

The point is: he's getting addicted to the books. Tonight he made poor Charles read about 10 books, some several times. This, after he made me read Goggles (or, as he calls it: "Doggie!") and after he spend the day "reading." I didn't make up those scare-quotes, Miss Meghan did. That's what the daycare report card said, "reading."

After bathtime, what did he want? More reading! And when put into his crib, what did he need to have? A book.

Yeah. Meanwhile, he's picking up words like no tomorrow. This week it's been: bus, airplane, song, knee, elbow, yellow, and probably more that I can't remember. Supposedly, he should have 50 words at age 2. He's 18 months, and I'm pretty sure he's got his 50 already.

By 2, I expect to hear him saying things like "Mother, I am convinced that the epistemological system espoused by Maddie B. falsely connects super-structure to base. Surely we have to consider the transgressive nature of the self in order - fully - to understand her fundamental questions?"