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As I have mentioned before, Kenny was an early talker, and talks very, very well for his age.   He is conjugating verbs, using correct pronouns and even dabbling in past, present and future tense.   Enough to make a grammar-junkie like me proud enough to pop.

But he has these little inflections of speech that are difficult for your average observer to understand…. even Casey often has to ask for a translation.   It’s getting clearer by the day, but still comically two-ish…

For example, he is perfectly capable of pronouncing the hard “g” sound, yet still pronounces certain words with a “d”… “Damma,” “Dammie and Dampie,” and “Do it a-din!”   But he says, “Go,” “gorilla” and “gonads” (don’t ask) perfectly well.   He’ll say, “Not that one!” clearly, but then say, “My fumb is tuck in my gwove.”   He’ll crow, “Let’s buy it right now!” in the store, then wail, “I don’ wanna eat my bwoc-wee!” at dinner.   “What’s dose dies doin’?” and “What’s dat lady doin’?” are his favorite phrases of late, usually accompanied by a loud voice and a pointing finger, and repeated enough times to make the accused party and me blush.

Then there are the almost-right words… anytime he has a broken fingernail or a hangnail, he runs to me and says, “Mama!   I   have a toenail!   Get the clippers!”

My favorite, though, is when he has heard me say something that he kind-of understands, yet hasn’t caught the exact word yet, and wants to clarify things.   Today for fifteen minutes he repeated, “Where are we detting the plaind?” and it wasn’t until we were in the car on the way to Home Depot that I realized that he must have heard me tell Casey on the phone that I was off to pick up another gallon of paint.   Then as we strolled through to the paint department, he told everyone we passed, “We’re detting PLAINT!”