Today, as I laid Chloe on the changing table, she looked up, pointed a chubby finger toward the mobile above her crib and said, "bird."
I stood in stunned silence. She's been babbling for quite some time, stumbling across the occasional "Mama" or "Dada" with a timing that allowed us to convince ourselves she knew what those words meant. But this. This was...purposeful.
She looked at me, still pointing. "Bird. Tweet, tweet," she said. I thought of all the times I'd said those very words to her as I held her up to watch those fabric birds spinning above her crib.
"Michael!" I yelled. "She's talking!!"
"That's great, honey," he said, his voice dripping with skepticism after I explained what had happened. Then, as though to prove herself, Chloe looked at her dad, pointed and said, "Bird. Tweet, tweet."
Suddenly, he and I were the ones who were speechless.
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