Language is the big topic in my small world right now.
Remy’s sounds are turning into words.
His words into patterns.
Soon, patterns will become sentences.
I can’t wait.
I talk to him constantly.
Long one-sided conversations while we walk or ride the bike together.
Mostly nonsense.
But on topics he knows a lot about.
Farm animals.
That sort of thing.
Yesterday we were out riding when I launched into another random monologue.
“Do horses like wearing shoes…?”
Mid ramble, Remy says ‘moo.’
“That’s cows,” I laughed.
“Horses go neighhh.”
“Moo,” he said again.
“Moo moo moo moo.”
Then I noticed his little finger pointing upward.
High above us, in the blue sky, was a white crescent moon.
I laughed.
Duh!
Clearly, I’m a better talker than a listener.
I spend a lot of time wondering when he’ll properly understand what I’m saying.
Maybe he already understands more than I realise.
Turns out, in this conversation at least, I was the confused one.