Friday, May 11, 2007
The babies babble at me, their language full of syllables and trills and rasperries. I sometimes echo their syllables and noises back to them, which makes them squeal with laughter, and then I wonder - what have I just said? Have I promised them ponies? Cars at their 16th birthday? Or more likely, all the cheerios they can eat and never having to take a nap when the world looks so interesting.