Chloe had her 18-month checkup a couple weeks ago, and passed with flying colors:
"Does she have at least six words?" the doctor asked.
"Check."
"Does she point at things to get your attention?"
"Oh yes -- point, grab us by the hand and insist we go with her. All of that."
"Is she trying to climb things?"
"Does shimmying up the coffee table and dancing on it count? And do you suppose that's genetic?"
The doc was pleased with her growth, and glad to hear Chloe had already achieved some two-year milestones, like jumping with two feet.
"Two-word sentences are her next verbal milestone," she said. "Things like, 'Me up' or 'Eat now.'"
Sure enough, after finishing her breakfast this past weekend, Chloe pushed herself away from the table, leaned back, and said ... "Whoa, baby."
I followed with a two-word sentence of my own. "Oh, my."
