Yesterday, the boys and I were loading up to leave the house, and I was packing the diaper bag. I always try to think of extra little somethings to take along, to entertain and feed the little men, should the natives become restless. But I couldn't find Tucker's juice.
Hmmm. "Tuck? Where's your juice, buddy? Can you find your juice so I can pack it?"
And without skipping a beat, he looked in his pocket. Because to a little guy like him, "pack it" sounds a lot like "pocket."
He's getting it - this whole language deal. Bit by bit.