Gavin: “Mom. Mom. Mama. Mom”
Me: “Gav, why do you keep saying my name? I’m tired of it. You’re wearing it out.”
After a thoughtful pause he says:
“Um, Becky? Becky Mama.”
I just had to stop and end my bad mood. What a guy. He’s so persistent and lovable, how can I refuse talking to that?
As I type this, he is still yelling through the house house. “MOM! Mom! Becky. Becky? Becky? Um, I wanna have a pear.”
Gotta go.
But first I need to write a couple other things he's been saying lately.
When I break out a knife in the kitchen and start chopping he says with a pointed index finger:
"Mom, be careful you don't cut off your hand."
When I set my glass of water down he says again:
"Mom, be careful you don't knock over your cup."

















































