Over the weekend, that became clear.
For many months, he might have been mistaken for one. He slept a lot. He was pretty quiet. And there wasn’t a whole lot of interaction.
Regardless, I talked to him constantly. I narrated every little thing I did. “Let’s go get you a bib. Bibs are SO important. You, my friend, drool a lot. Oh, look! It’s the “Thank Heaven for Little Boys” bib! Yay! That one looks VERY handsome on you.”
But let’s be real: I was acutely aware that every word sounded like gibberish to him. Hence why I would still curse in front of him and/or allow him to watch Celebrity Rehab.
We know he’s starting to get some sort of grasp on the English language. There was that whole “Dada” thing, after all. And he has repeated that amazing performance a couple of times since then. But still, you could chalk that up to some coincidental babbling. Maybe we’re just hearing what we want to hear.
But this weekend, he followed a command.
Just for fun, we said, “Ryan, can you clap?”
And the kid clapped.
And we freaked out.
He understood us. And then did what we asked. How is that possible? Stuffed animals can’t understand people… I guess he’s really a person?
(It doesn’t hurt that clapping is his absolute favorite thing to do right now. He even claps when he’s crying. Not sure what that’s all about.)