We are driving across town to the awesomest restaurant ever (and the only one we ever take out-of-town- guests to). Hubs is driving, I'm in the passenger seat and Bjorn is in the middle of the backseat flanked by his grandparents.
"Ball." Bjorn says insistently, pointing ahead. "Ball. Ball."
I look ahead and see some of those huge balloons that fly above the local car dealership.
"That's right. They do look like balls." I turn around to reply to him. "But those are balloons. Balloons are the same shape as balls, but balloons are bigger and float in the air."
He nods, taking it all in.
"Do you always talk to him like that?" My Dad asks.
"You mean do I always explain stuff to him? I try to." I turn back around, confident that he is thinking what an intelligent grandson his daughter is raising, who will be able to describe the difference between a ball and balloon by age 2.
"Ohhh." My Dad says. "That's why Bjorn babbles so much. It's because you babble so much."