Jonathan is three years old now and he talks all the time. He understands pretty much everything we say, so s-p-e-l-l-i-n-g is a regular form of adult communication. He corrects us if we use "bad" words, most commonly "crap," but sometimes I get corrected on other things that I was unaware were impolite.
He dropped an apple slice on the ground while snacking, and I asked him to pick it up and throw it away. He picked it up and handed it to me saying, "Here, Mommy, it's icky and will get me all icky-dirty. That's why it's a Mommy job." While I was silently laughing at this he turned around and very seriously told me, "And I tooted. I toot-toot tooted." So, this is what raising a little boy is like.
