No, I’m not; I’m nice

The amount Avery understands routinely surprises me. Words like California and microwave and Internet and, today, dictator.

As in, Oh, it’s just Avery being a dictator, said on the phone to Holly, who could hear me talking to Avery but couldn’t hear his part of the conversation.

Which included: Daddy, shut the door. Daddy, lock the door. Daddy, open the front door so I don’t get wet. Get me the iPad. I want chocolate milk. I’m hungry. Don’t forget Rora.

Oh, it’s just Avery being a dictator, I said, and Avery heard me say Oh, it’s just Avery being a dictator.

No, I’m not, Avery said. I’m nice.

Then: I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, half-said, half-sung, the ou in the yous dragged out for a few seconds longer than the word requires. I love youuuuuuuu.

He smirks when he sings this song.

Words that he could not understand yesterday understood today.

He still struggles with words like don’t hit your sister, and don’t jump in the bed, and take off your shoes before you try to take off your pants or you will get stuck and if you try to move you may fall over, which will make me laugh even though a good father would not laugh at you after you’ve tripped over your feet and fallen on your face.

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This entry was posted on May 1, 2012 by and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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