Who's on first?
J. has some pictures of him with his parents and next youngest sister on the wall in our bedroom. Sometimes R. notices it and wants to talk about it. R.: That your grandpa? J.: No, that's my daddy. R.: Your grandpa is so tiny. J.: That's my daddy and he's not tiny, he's a grown-up man. I'm tiny; I'm a baby. R.: You a baby?! J.: Yes, I was a baby. R.: Your grandpa not a baby? J.: Not my grandpa, my daddy. R.: My daddy? J.: No, not your daddy, my daddy. R.: Oh, so little I'm not entirely sure how many times they went round and round, but you get the idea. I thought about helpfully asking who was on first, but I restrained myself. And yes, if you were curious, J. is infinitely more patient than I am.