Now that Wren can speak a bit I am able to understand his squeals more easily. This morning, we were playing in The Minivan in the Swanson's Nursery parking lot when Wren starting pointing and squeaking out the window. He was saying "dada, dada, dada" with some urgency. I looked up from my novel [which I carry at all times because Wren insists on play-driving the minivan rather than getting directly into his seat] and saw that he was pointing at a bald-headed guy in a great long-sleeved t-shirt and gray jeans. Apparently, Wren thought he was Joshua because of the head.
Since the man kept walking Wren changed to "buh bye" and resumed playing with the control panel.
I tried to explain to Wren that this guy had way bigger shoulders than Joshua. I mean, he looked like a discus thrower in that department, but perhaps that is not something babies notice.
Uh oh. I hear thumping from the bedroom. Wren has woken and is throwing books.
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