Meghan sits bare bottomed on the potty beside me in the bathroom as I straighten my hair for work. After a while, I encourage her gently, "Meghan, honey, are you sure you have to go potty?"
"Yep!" she replies enthusiastically, with an affirmative head shake.
"Well, go ahead and do your potty then!"
"Okay," she says, feet swinging. She is in no hurry.
"How did you get so cute, anyway?" I ask with a sidelong glance. (She really doesn't like me being in the room with her right now.) "Who taught you to say 'Yep' like that?"
"No-bod-y," she enunciates carefully, smiling, clearly pleased with herself.
She slides down, tries to climb onto the vanity cabinet, gets stuck halfway up, cries pitifully, "Help!".
I kiss her and help her down.
She goes about her way. She has no idea how her mother's heart is soaring.
These spoken words are all new to her, new to me, and I will never tire of hearing them!