Stories of T

- Over the winter he developed the ability to walk up to the window without scaring birds eating at the bird feeders. Sure, they hop a few steps back, but the rest of us so much as wave an arm from inside and they all fly away.

- His best friend is his stuffed puppy. They often have long conversations, I think they tell each other jokes.  When he's in bed but not yet asleep, there will be long dialogue.  Silence.  Then someone makes a noise-- uproarious laughter.  B says they remind him of Calvin and Hobbes.  I have the fleeting thought they really ought to be separated, then when I find T asleep with his head on Puppy, I can't help but think, what are friends for?

- T has continued his endless fascination with lawn mowers.  The sound of nearby mowing sends him racing from window to window to find which neighbor it is, then he is glued there watching until they are done.  If we're outside he'll grab the wheelbarrow and push it to the front yard as if to say, see I have something big to push, too!  Inside, he has commandeered K's old doll stroller as his mower and spends a good chunk of time pretending to mow the carpet upstairs.  He has developed a very life-like mower sound, complete with motor undulations and a diminishing rumble when he turns it off.  He pulls an imaginary cord to turn it on, though sometimes it's stubborn and won't start.  He has to pull that cord quite a few times, some days.  He does the same thing outside and also spends a lot of time edging, using the toy popper.  His edging sound is really life-like, too. I've actually thought it was a neighbor edging until I noticed the sound kept stopping to take a breath.  I don't know how he does that.  

- He is extremely sensitive to where we are driving and often recognizes locations as we pass them, even when we are heading somewhere else and just happen to go by a familiar landmark. "Why are you stopping?" he asks as I wait for traffic to clear. "Why are we going up the hill?" he asks as we drive on a new road. And when I sigh after missing my turn, "What's WRONG?" comes the worried demand from the backseat. It will be handy to have him as my navigator when he's older.

- And even though his language skills have progressed remarkably in the last months, I like that there are still words he pronounces three-year old style.  Yellow is la-low, helicopter is ha-weh-coptapter, and he is always so proud when he gets an owie that needs a Bambaide.