She says, “Mama,” you guys. Not the string of mamamamama that she’s been doing for months now, not the pointing that clearly means ‘hey-you-with-the-Oreos-hand-them-over-and-no-one-gets-hurt’ in baby talk. She says, “Mama.”
Because that’s my name.
She’s been saying ‘Da’ and occasionally ‘Daddy’ for a while now to get Greg’s attention. But not Mama–until now. Now she looks at me with those little blue eyes and says, “Mama?”
Then I say, “What, Baby?”
And at the same time, I mop up my heart that has melted all over the floor.