The Little Jobber

I guess I need to keep a closer eye on the cream cheese, especially when it’s almost dinner time . . .

Yes, that’s a tub of cream cheese and, yes, those holes were made by the pointer finger of a hungry toddler.

Or Capital Region Cal . . .

First, Owen finished the playset (minus the roof):

And then we had Mother’s Day:

And lots of playset enjoyment:

Here’s a little smile for your weekend…

The 18-24 month pants that fit Conal perfectly last week are now too short. Way too short. Embarrassingly short. Pack ‘em away short.

And then there are the words. They coming in bursts. Yes, I keep track. Yes, I have a list. Feel free to skip — it’s not very exciting.

1. Apple
2. Ball
3. Balloon
4. Banana
5. Bike
6. Book
7. Car
8. Cheese
9. Chili
10. Dada
11. Dog
12. Done
13. Down
14. Eat
15. Elmo
16. Golf clubs
17. Groceries
18. Hat
19. Jeans
20. Juice
21. Milk
22. Mom
23. Mower
24. No
25. Out
26. Running
27. Shoes
28. Stop
29. Trees
30. Truck
31. Up
32. Yankees
33. Yes

A week ago (back when all of those pants still fit) he had about a dozen measly words. Now, he has more than double that. It’s an explosion! A word explosion, much like his growth explosion.

Maybe instead of the Little Jobber, we should start calling him Conal the Exploding Toddler!