One of the very pleasurable and many times hilarious aspects of raising a child is the stage in which they are learning their birth language. First, there are the unintelligible sounds that later become the consonants and vowels that make up the words they will use. This stage is one of audible attention on the part of the parents with nothing much more to do than observe. Next comes the stage of object and action identification where they assign these clusters of primal sounds to things and tasks in their environment. This is a slightly comedic stage with more work than comedy per se because you find yourself repeating back to them the word that you ascertain that they are trying to say ad nauseum. Yes, it's hard work as many of you know, but nonetheless it is rewarding and totally necessary on Planet Parenthood. The stage that follows this last one has been personally the best for me, as a father who loves to write and read the English language. In this stage the child is still earning their vernacular sea legs, and will be for quite some time although it is with a greater and greater sense of refinement. The funny moment that is the whole reason for this post is about to be revealed. I have said all that precedes this in order that I may share this comedic scene with you. My daughter Shayla is now 3 1/2 and she has developed this little phrase, parrot-ed it actually, from I don't know where. When she is excited to be with someone she will say it with such verve and passion that it's contextual humor overrides the simplicity of the phrase itself. The other day she was spending time with her Grandma Joan and she was so excited to be with her and enjoying her company that she ran up and as she did so she said, "Come here Boy!!" and hugged her with all her strength and devotion exemplified. Grandma of course responded with, "I'm not a boy. I'm a girl!" Shayla didn't respond, but just continued on her merry way. Of course when she says this to me it fits, but she says it to her mom as well in all the same passion pockets of experience. Shayla understands that we're not all boys in her family, but somehow that understanding has not evolved it's way into her speech patterns just yet. For me it's one of the simple comedic pleasures of being the father to a great little 3 1/2 year old girl, and I just can't help but smile every time I hear her passionate little expression and see the resultant hug of her asexual love.