An answer to the rhetorical question...

...but first, a word on how my son kicks ass at baby swim class. Yes, I just used "kicked ass" when describing what went on at a baby swim class. It is not like the boy with the bone disease is going to be the star quarterback, so really, I'll take any shining athletic moment I can! He was awesome - below you will find a list of the things he was the BEST AT:
1) sliding off the edge
2) jumping off the edge but ONLY on my mommy cue
3) singing wheels on the bus
4) blowing bubbles
5) chasing balls
6) chasing and gathering rubber ducks
7) laying on his back
8) kicking
9) splashing other people
10) voluntarily sticking face in water
Basically, he was amazing. He even got to be the "demo" baby.


And now, onto the rhetorical question. Nearly every day of my life involves a considerable amount of time looking for my keys. I have thrown my keys in the trash, left them in the door, and lost them in Nashville at ???? It just seems that when it comes to putting my keys somewhere, my mind is already way ahead and on to the next task, or else I am doing my purse/briefcase/violin/diaper bag/grocery bag/baby/stuffed monkey/sippy cup/cell phone juggling act, and have lost my keys in the process of not dropping the baby.

Ever since I can remember, I have always asked Daniel where my keys are. I don't even realize I say it, because I say it every flippin' time I try to leave the house. "Where's mama's keys Daniel?" ..."Daniel, have you seen mommy's keys?" Obviously, as a baby, he never answered, and most of his speaking life, he has ignored me, or acted like he didn't understand the words coming out of my mouth.

This morning he is watching Blues Clues and having his morning banana. I'm trying to load the car, and my arms are full. "Where are my keys?" I yelled. Calmly and nonchalantly came "right there mama". I was stunned. In 22 months, I have never heard my question answered. He was listening? He processed? I thought it was funny, until I turned around and saw he was actually pointing at my keys, with his eyes still on Blues Clues, banana in hand, leaning against the couch. I followed his chubby pointed finger, and there, behind my boots, where my keys.

I ran over and smothered him with kisses. I got a little nuzzle in return then he pushed me away (I was in front of the TV...) "Shoe-ies, mama. Right there," I looked at him funny because we both already had shoes on..."Keys shoe-ies," He says again, this time with just a hint of exasperation, as if my questioning look that made him repeat himself somehow inconvenienced him. "oh, I get it - you're telling me my keys were behind my shoes?" I asked. He nods yes, I pick up my keys, and he claps and yells and OVER enthusiastic "yay!". Great...a patronizing 22 month old with a flair for the dramatic... (I cant imagine where who he got that from?)