Today you are 15 months old, small buddy of mine. You have taken a great leap of attitude this past month, deciding that communication is composed of more than cries. We are grateful for that. The sounds that are you right now are a "Roarrrr!" and "What's this?" Everything in your world roars, from the little bird in the yard, to the trees, to a dinosaur. OK, that one you got right.
You like to wave a stick, a broom, or a bat high in the air as you toddle around babbling and looking for fun.
You say a few words like "dekdas" for breakfast, "datder" for cracker and "Da-ee," always Daddy. Hi and Bye sound the same and are accompanied by a cheerful wave "Dye!" You've got that "d" sound down pat.
You ask "What's this?" with perfect diction and we always respond, even when it is the same chair or toy or food that you just asked about. We hear you questioning "What's this?" dozens of times a day, and we never get tired of it. We all say it too, trying to be as sweet and winsome as you.
You refuse to say Mama, and we know it is on purpose. You smirk at me, give me a squinty-eyed grin, and laugh. You know there is no need to call my name. I will come to you whatever you say. I tease you and ask you to say Mama. You grin and say "Da! Day!"
You win. I heard the girls tell you just yesterday that they would get your Day for you.
I am Day, you little hambone.