two little words

They come out clear as a bell from that tiny mouth.

"Cat" in reference to the evil, hairy beast that refuses to stay out of Owen's way, and yet will nip and try to swat him when he clumsily lands on some part of the cat's body. Tough, says I. Either move--you're faster and more coordinated than my little man--or suffer his attentions.

I'm totally enforcing this.

"Baby" repeating after me whenever I call him this. Although, to be fair, he won't hold that title for very much longer. But when he says it back to me, my heart clenches.