My son, the genius

Luke my son, my son. You are so brilliant! This morning I showed you how to tap the orange happy face on the exersaucer and you looked at me, raised your hand above your head and brought your open palm down on the happy face and made it squeak! That happy face is difficult to make squeak. It's one of those fussy squeakers that you have to push at just the right speed. Too fast and the air whooshes through without a sound, too slow and it sounds like a balloon losing it's air. But you pushed it just right, and you did it not once, but over and over again.

That squeaker has always gotten your attention. You always liked it when I pushed it. You'd smile up at me with a big slobbery grin. But you've never bent your head over enough to see what was making the sound. It was too flat next to the table of the saucer. Lately you've been taking notice of it more and turning the orange face and grabbing the funny looking monkey ears. And today you conquered it! You are a very short, very chubby, very adorable genius.