Daddy's Boy

On one of several car trips today, it was just Gabe & i. We'd dropped off who needed dropping and had some time before we had to start picking up (would've just said picking, but then you might get the wrong idea.) Anyhow, he was just chattering away in the back. I started listening, and realized he was mentioning his Dada. He loves his Daddy, and says all the variations of Dada he can say at his tender age... Da-da, Dad-ee, Da-dee, & Da. He would jabber about something else, but kept coming back to talking about his Dad. I'll admit it, I was starting to feel a little jealous. Why, just this morning, I brought him into bed with me. He practically plowed over me on his way to Clint's side of the bed (Clint was playing church basketball at the time.) He pulled back the covers, calling for Da-dee, then whimpered when he couldn't find him. It took a few more seconds of searching before he finally accepted that Dada wasn't there. Anyway, back to the story. He really began talking a lot about Clint, and I finally decided to look at him while we were stopped at a red light, and see what was prompting this discussion. Did he have his toy phone in hand or was he looking at Clint's coat in the back? As I turned, I saw him flipping the pages of his favorite book:



The pages are filled with illustrations of monkeys and gorillas; and, for once, I was glad he wasn't uttering the scarcely-heard "Mama." :)