Up till now, he’s been babbling: lots of words, phrases, fragments. The only sentence-like things he’s uttered has been phrases he’s picked up wholesale, like song lyrics (“I like you”) and titles. But yesterday, our boy strung together a sentence for the first time. Was it an expression of maternal love, of deep philosophical import, of faith in the future? After a fashion. Because the sentence was:
“I like pizza.”
Well, don’t you?