Wallace Managed the Beatles.
My kid talks a lot. Much like her father, there is constant chatter coming out of her mouth most of the time she is awake. Some days it drives me up a wall (especially between the two of them, sometimes I long for real and true quiet), but I also really enjoy getting to hear what's in her brain. With every uptick in her verbal skills, we get a little more insight into how she thinks.
There are questions, endless strings of inquiries. At bedtime yesterday: "Daddy? Do you think food makes my nose grow?" At lunch: "Mommy, do you think some strawberries could be purple?" Playing outside: "Do you think bugs could eat some dirt?" Any time of day: "Mommy, do you think we have three cats here in this house? Just three and not four?" "Mommy, do you think pumpkins are good to smell?" "Do you think the kitty's belly smells like food? Or does it smell like candy? Do you think cats like gum? Do you think Mei-Mei has gum in her belly?"
Then there's the really funny stuff, like today, when she brought Ryan a Wallace and Gromit video and informed him, "This is Brian Epstein, Daddy. It is Brian Epstein." A few hours later, she had an entire conversation with me about how Santa Claus was going to come to our house and if he would play "dolls and blocks and Legos with me and read me books." She concluded that "He would. Santa Claus would play toys with me. He would play dolls with me, and he would read me lots of books."