No, that isn’t me yelling at the boys during dinner when they are quacking at each other and getting progressively louder and louder and louder! That is the sound of Billy, yes our sweet Billy, hollering at the dogs when they start howling at passing sirens. It doesn’t matter that Trouble and Daisy can’t hear him through the closed doors and windows or that he is in his room at the front of the house and they are out back–Billy scolds them anyway! And, no, he did not learn this from me! Blame that on the other parental unit.
Just this week Billy has learned to say his name. You have to ask the right question and he has to be in the right mood and then you get the priviledge of hearing his sweet, “Bee-y.”