I know I’ve posted about how Cliff doesn’t talk. There is some hope on that front. He does say more words. In Mandarin. We think. But he says some in English, too.

Unlike my Mynah bird children of yesteryear, I cannot take him around the house and point to any old object for him to repeat. Oh no. There’s none of that let’s-develop-a-vocabulary uselessness. He’s not interested in any old thing. He’s all about doing.

Busy boy

Clifford speaks in verbs. Almost exclusively. His favorite one-word commands are: EAT. NEED. DOWN. UP. NO (actually an adverb). GO. HAVE. The others are less intelligible to the untrained ear and usually involve him pointing, tugging at pant legs, shoving me into the next room, trying to force the TV remote control into my hand and the like.

Okay, he appeases us with the occasional Mommy and Daddy. And he yells Henry. He knows we’re the suckers who fulfill his commands. And he knows Henry is his ally in testosterone and things that bounce and shoot, if nothing else.

Oh wait. He does very sweetly say Jesus.

Maybe because Cliff knows Jesus is his ally in all else.  (Or at least that he’s mine.)