MINE!

How worried should we be? Seventeen-month-old Grant’s first clearly understandable word is “MINE!” This is accompanied by a grimace of objection (usually because whatever he’s referring to is about to get taken away) and clutching the prized object to his little chest. The other day, he was standing on top of the slide and Kyle (27 months) wanted to get up. They both stood frozen – Kyle on the ground and Grant on the play equipment – shrieking “MINE!” back and forth. Kind of like a tennis volley, but more like a couple of small dogs on opposite sides of a chain link fence, just yapping away at each other.

So courtesy of big brother Kyle, Grant’s first word is quite charming. I’m fully expecting Grant’s next feat to be a full sentence, “Dude, you better jump back.” Kyle’s first words were duck and ball, but then again, he didn’t have an older brother to contend with.

The boys spent the weekend out at their grandparents’ house (Dave’s parents) having a miserable time playing in a massive pile of dirt getting as filthy as possible (big plus in the fun department), walking down to the lake, throwing rocks in the water, visiting the neighbor’s demon-possessed geese (surely there’s a Biblical passage somewhere about geese, right?), taking golf cart rides, playing on the porch, watching Papa scoop and dump dirt in his big tractor and all kinds of other torturous things Baba and Papa inflicted upon them. Poor little darlings.