Charles has discovered twigs. Since our trip to the park Charles has been become much more consistent about acquiring a twig when he’s outside. He calls them “sticks” and isn’t very happy with me when I tell him that his piece of wood is actually a twig. Mom, the softie, acquiesiesin this mislabling leaving me the only defender of the language.
Despite this, Charles is still fond of his dear old Dad1. Charles demonstrated this by going out with Mom to work on the landscaping and returning with a big handful of sticks twigs clutched in his little hand like a boquet. He marched in to my office and announced “These for youuuuu!” and then put the twigs on the table. They’re still there. This afternoon Charles grabbed a couple on his way out but, realizing that he had given them to Daddy, stopped and returned them to the table.
1 Still, Charles is rarely a Daddy’s Charles boy. The other day he even preferred to be Miss Darcy’s Charles boy.