Wednesday, June 11, 2014


It was around this time that I was worried about Robbie's speaking.

Annie's 18 month appointment is tomorrow.

I can remember sitting in the waiting room for Robster's 18 month appointment, along with a pair of parents I wanted to punch.  They were with baby girl Tinsley, or Tenley or Shaw or Georgetown or Chevy or something so very DC pretentious with a notebook of her words to take in to her doctor's appointment.

"Oh, Daddy, supercalifragiliousdiexpialadious"-- put that in the book- that makes 127 words!"

Me (in corner fuming): GRUMBLE GRUMBLE GRUMBLE

But tomorrow--  words are something we don't worry about for little sister.

Words ya'll?

She has them.

Can she temper her toddler tude at all? 


But words?

She can sing a few lines of Happy Birthday.

Knows the words butterfly, giraffe, and elephant.

Can follow the command of "stand on one leg like a flamingo?"

And ya'll .  She repeats everything.

Eve. Ry.  Thing.

Be warned.

We've got to get her started on drafting that stump speech.

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