I keep meaning to make a note of the sort of talking that Tara is doing, because she’s doing it all the time now. This morning when I got her out of her crib, it went a little something like this:

Tara: Daddy, go downstairs.

Me: You want to go downstairs?

Tara: Yes. Go downstairs see Mommy.

Me: Mommy’s still sleeping.

Tara: (after thinking a moment) Go downstairs see Anna?

Me: Ok, we’ll go downstairs after we change your diaper.

Tara: Otay. (pointing to package of diapers) Lots of diapers there! Elmo diaper.

Me: Yes, that’s Elmo.

Tara: (rubbing her eye) Can’t reach it.

Me: Is there something in your eye?

Tara: Yes. This eye is spicy.

Me: It’s spicy? (wiping her eye with her shirt) Is that better?

Tara: Yes, all better. Thanks Dad!