Once upon a time I use to wish for the day Jackson would be old enough to carry on a conversation. I thought it would make the day so much more entertaining having someone to talk to in “grown-up talk” instead of an infant who requires constant cooing and gah-gah gooing.
Well, I’m not sure exactly when my wish came true, but one day I suddenly realized Jack and I were having a conversation (actually, I think it was an argument). Actually, I think I got a little more than I wished for. I got a chatterbox.
Jackson’s favorite opener is “What’s that, Mommy?”
I get asked this question anywhere from 20-50 times a day.
“What’s that, Mommy?” (while pointing to the gear shift in the car)
“What’s that?” (pointing to a butternut squash in the grocery store)
“What’s that, Mommy?” (very loudly while pointing to a disabled lady shopping on a wal-mart scooter) *palm to forehead*