Tonight as the sun set through the little window in Webb's room, we laid in the floor reading his picture dictionary. I'd point to a picture and he'd either immediately say the word or wait a minute, his eyes scanning the picture, and then say the word. There is nothing like hearing your child talk and remember things you've talked about in previous conversations. Like when we got to the clouds . . . which he calls "cwouds." I asked him where clouds are and he said "sky." And I asked what do the clouds make and he said "rain". And I said what happens to the clouds and he said "get dark." And I asked him what the rain makes he said "mud." And then we got to the guinea pig and he said "guinea mouse." Cause that's really what it looks like. Who ever called it a guinea pig? Seriously. I sat in tears thinking back to that day earlier in the summer when we went to the doctor. Over in the play place, Webb found a book with a guinea pig on it and he brought it to me so we worked on saying the words "guinea pig." And darn if that boy didn't remember that animal from that one encounter with it. And then that Little looked over at me and gave me the sweetest little kiss. If I could bottle up this moment in time so I could relive it, I surely would. I felt this overwhelming since of pride in my Little using his words so well and making all those connections in his brain. I wanted so badly for my daddy to hear those sweet little words and know that his little grandson is as sharp as a tack.
So mommy goes to bed with a full heart and fond memories of my evening with Webb and the guinea mouse.
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