My Fot!

Iain is learning to pronounce "sp." So far, it comes out as an "f" sound. As in:

"I wanna fell it!" he wants to spell something.
"This my fot!" That's his spot.
"I in you fot!" He's sitting in my spot in the bed, watching "ziggerzino" for the umpeenth time.

I remember, more than 25 years ago, sitting at the table with my elementary school principal. He had a toddler, and the little boy was at the head of that table, in his high chair. He babbled on endlessly, and honestly - we had no idea what he was saying. Yet his parents responded, answered questions, and generally seemed to comprehend his chatter.

Now we're the ones. He says, "I in you fot to watch episode! Actually." and we know just what that means: where he is, what he wants, that he's a bit conflicted about his selection.

Also: 9 degrees this morning. But I figure spring's just around the corner. Iain's snow boots arrived tonight, and using the Principle of Murphy's Law, we know that it will not snow again until he has outgrown them.

Bring on the bikinis!