Nate's talking is out of control. It's almost like talking with a regular person now, though he doesn't always know the words for the things he wants to say.
Two quick anecdotes:
A few days ago we were sitting on the front porch (steps) in the nice afternoon weather. I was drinking a bottle of water, and Nate asked his 48,439th "What's that?" question, pointing to an animal on the label of my water bottle. I looked it over and wasn't sure. "I think it's a moose, buddy." He looked at it again and said "I think it's a deer." I looked again. The animal on my Deer Park water bottle? Yeah, it's a deer.
Yesterday I took Nate to Toys 'r Us to get the sand for his rockin' new sandbox. It was a nice outing together - now that he can talk, and walk with me, it's really fun going places with him. When he's not throwing a fit over the color of his juice cup, or the flavor of his fruit snack, or the atoms that keep hurting him, that is. But yes, we were having fun. We went over a speed bump, one of his favorite things, and he asked me for more speed bumps. I said "I don't think there are any more, buddy." and he said "Oh. Only one speed bump?" He's counting? His counting makes sense? He understands numbers?
You're killing me, kid.
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