This morning as I'm changing Sienna's diaper, I do a double-take at her dookie. (I know, but bear with me.) Imbedded throughout all of her doo-doo is dirt, mobs and mobs and millions of grains of dirt.
"Sienna, did you eat dirt yesterday?"
"Sienna, that is gross! Do not eat dirt anymore!"
"I mean it. You will get worms, or a rash or some other nasty thing if you keep eating dirt. No more dirt, ok?"
"Doog. Dooga! Dooooggg."
Most parents would be somewhat alarmed by their child's slow progress with language, but I am oddly comforted because now at least she 'doogas' with inflection. We're getting there, one dooga doog at a time.