Last night it was my turn to take Sennet up to bed and read stories. He usually likes to “read” the stories first and then lets you read them.

Last night he had The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes by Beatrix Potter, and he was reading it before my turn. He turns the pages and says a few lines of gibberish – made-up words, then talks about what is on the pictures.

In this case he was saying, “And there’s a squirrel. Two squirrels. Three, four, five squirrels. Five squirrels. Hand lotion.” (He had glanced up to the shelf where there is a big bottle of hand lotion – all the ingredients go into the soup!)

After a long pause at one point he glanced at me with a sly smile. (We were both laying on his bed, propped up on pillows.) I told him that I liked his stories.

Smiling, he said, “My stories are great. My stories are like blue berries and chocolate.”

I don’t know where he gets this stuff.