The Tiniest Capen, working mother

Bingledy bingledy beep

Gwyneth started talking last week. I mean, she’s been talking — communicating verbally — for a year and change. But last week she started speaking English.

This morning Justin made an example of greeting the dog when he wandered out of the bedroom, and Gwyn repeated it perfectly: “Hi, Malcolm!”

And when I came out of the bedroom, dressed for work, she started saying goodbye to me. I told her I was going to get breakfast first, and she said “Mama breakfast first.” When I was done with my sandwich, she asked me if I had my shoes.
“And keys?”
“And a hat? “(No, thank you, mama doesn’t need a hat. Does Gwyn want a hat? “No hat Hen.” Okay then. No hats for anyone.)
“Bye bye mama!” (Then she retrieved my wallet from my purse and handed it to me. “Thank you mama!”)
“A hug?”
“And kiss.”
“Keys?”
“Bye!”

She’s like my own personal imp-powered organizer, a-la Pratchett and Vimes.

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