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Physical

On Friday, I dropped off Dani to her usual chiropractor appointment. Once we found a parking space, Jeffrey and I went inside to wait. Obliviously, I walked right past the three (3!) signs which read, "Please don’t let your children play in the Physical Therapy room." Oops. We were tugging on the stretch bands , which was fun watching him try to stretch it from the table leg where it was tied and realizing that it’s stronger than he is. Then I let him do bicep curls with the 1lb weights. He didn’t quite get it, so I demostrated and then told him, "to the chest, then down… up to the chest and down." Then I saw the sign, and we got out of there before we got in trouble. We spent the rest of the visit reading Highlights .

When Phonemom was done, we walked out and I recounted the tale of our mischief. Jeffrey immediately chimed in with, "to the chest, and down. To the chest, and down". I lamented that if I’d known that he was going to parrot the phrase so well, I would have added something more colorful, like, "Feel the burn ! Over the top !" Dani chimed in too.

"Jeffrey, say, ‘My name is Jeffrey, and I will PUMP you UP !’"

He thought about this, and then shouted defiantly. "NO! YOU can’t pump ME up. You are not Jeffrey. I am Jeffrey."

Those pronouns are coming along nicely , I think.