He does something funny. Or not funny. Or cute. Or not cute. Or anything at all, really. "Mama, yook ah me!" If I don't look right that very second, "MAMA YOOK AH ME!"
"I see!" I say with overdramatic enthusiasm. Otherwise he'd furrow his brow and stick pouty lips out at me. "Come here."
"No. I dunt wah too!"
"Matthew, come here." I say sternly.
"No. Stop!" He shakes his pointer finger at me. "I dunt wah too!"
"Come. Here. Now." I accent each and every word of the command. His demeanor changes. His faces crumples. He staggers toward me, crying.
"Saw-E, Mama." He offers.
"I forgive you."
"Cuh-doh?" He asks.
I scoop him up into my arms. Because I'd cuddle with that boy all day long if he'd let me. He sees the cat go running by. "Key-cat! Where key-cat go?" He squirms out of my arms. "Key-cat! Ah-we! (Kitty cat! Ollie!) He locates him, laughs. "Come ear, Ah-we!" He giggles.
"I love you!" I smile at him.
"I wuv ew!" He grins. "Where Butter go?" (Brother.)
"Kay. Bye Mom." Says the kid who wasn't saying much of anything three months ago.