First Words

I was beginning to fret a bit as Oscar's first birthday approached and he had yet to say a word other than "boom" (does that even count as a word?).  My book assured me he should be saying "mama" and "dada"--and meaning it--by nine or ten months.  But then, finally, around the time of the Big Day, we (meaning G) began to notice that some of those sounds he was making were, in fact, words.  Or at least barks.  Yep, that's "woof woof" he keeps saying!  And "dog."  Or is it "dad?"  I guess he knew we were confused because he soon distinguished between the two by clarifying:  "dad...vroom vroom," and "dog...woof woof."

Speaking of vroom vroom, one of his earliest words--to G's utter pride--was "garage!"  (Strangely, he pronounces it the American way.  Actually, that's not so strange, since "garage" is my second most frequent answer, after "work," to his interminable query "dad?  dad?  dad?")  I suppose this is down to the fact that G had him in that man cave every Saturday morning for many weeks, plunked in his activity center while G built a motorbike.  Predictably, he is no longer content to watch.  He nags me every day, "g'rage? g'rage? g'rage?"  When I finally relent, he heads straight for the "toos," grabs a few, then squats down next to the "bike," and begins to "fix" it.  Apple...tree.

Although, I must say, I'm bursting with pride myself.  Lately my "presh" "prince" has another obsession, too.  Every pump bottle he sees has him begging to "sanitize."  That's my boy.