Sometimes John scares me with his 23-month-old knowledge.
I brought in James's nearly-new soccer ball from the yard this evening. "This ball is falling apart!" I complained to Jeremy, as I noticed the stiching coming loose. I guess that's what we get from a cheap ball - a cheap lifetime. I left it by the door and went in the other room.
When I returned a few minutes later, John was very busy with the ball - and his toy drill. Lest I mistake this for coincidental, he looked up at me proudly and said, "Mama, ball!" Then he put the drill right on the bad spot and worked away at it.
It is good for me to be reminded (frequently) that he understands FAR more than I give him credit for. His lack of ability to speak long fluent sentences does not seem to impair his ability to understand them.
He also understands that drills are for fixing and other important work. A few months ago, after I had gotten frustrated with him trying to escape, I had locked the sliding door to our deck. He didn't whine or cry. He just went and got his drill and set to work on the lock, very patiently trying to remove the screws from the lock.
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