Recently we bumped into a little girl in the park who is one day older than Owen and she could say several words. O, bless him, can't. Owen can say one word.
When he wants something.
And with increasing urgency as you present him with a variety of things towards which he appears to be gesticulating, but that are all the wrong thing.
ÇA! ÇA! ÇA!
There is a smattering of whiny mamans and a fair sprinkling of papas discernable amongst the tootling, but mostly it's ÇA!
Oh yes, and when he doesn't get what he wants he screams at a pitch that sends our canine neighbours into a frenzy. But fair's fair, maman was withholding the much coveted slippers to get in a few extra ÇA!s.
He is also starting to make animal noises (always a useful life skill). I say noises, I mean noise. In O's world most animals go Rarrrr. Only the dog is maverick. The dog goes vvrrrfffff. Like a Formula One racing car.