Secrets

My daughter is at that stage where so many things are “secrets”.  That means that she basically just whispers nonsense in your ear. The boy, who can’t even talk, has picked up on that and often has his own secrets to share.  It’s always the same secret.

Wanna know what it is?

Mama.  Daddy. Ya-Ya*.  Ya-Ya.  Mama.  Car. Truck. Car. Daddy. Ya-Ya.  Moon.  Car.

Absolutely riveting, ain’t it?

*Ya-Ya is what he calls Ilia. 

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