This is how Owl says, “Thank you, Mama” when I have helped him, handed him something, done something for him or otherwise made him feel very pleased indeed.

Also, this morning, I was pulling some wipes out of the bag and I received a very enthusiastic “Grey job, mama. Grey job!” I’ll take that as great job, and not a monochromatic insult.

Owl is a chatty one, but he often confuses words or makes them up to mimic the sounds of an actual word. So I can sometimes sit back and listen to about a minute of conversation that has all the markings of a chat, but none of the actual words.

Owl is also hitting that age where the gentlest of fibs starts rounding the bend. The other day, he spilled his drink, but he told me, “Mama did that” in complete feigned sincerity. And then he removed his socks and said “LuLu ate them,” in spite of them being crumpled up into little sock balls right next to his feet.

I wish I could take him to work with me. He could eagerly compliment me as I completed my tasks and then pass many an hour telling tall tales about how I ate my stapler.

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