Can you tell me about it?

The same thing, five times in a row.

"Can you tell me about it?"

So I repeat the story about the bell tower at the church and how it plays the clock song every hour, even though we can't see a clock on the tower. Then I tell him again. And again. I can never say it the same way twice, but maybe he likes the variety.

When he tells me things, there are usually so many words tumbling out his mouth at once that I only understand half of them, but I do get the point.

Here's a conversation we had this week:

I'd left one potato chip on my lunch plate and went upstairs to change sister's diaper. When I came down, Sam were standing uncomfortably by my chair.

"I ate you's last chip," he said. "I was hungry and I ate you's last chip."

I laughed. "That's ok," I said. "Would you like some more cream cheese on crackers?" I'd given him a small plate of crackers smeared with cream cheese to eat while I showered.

"Well," he said. "Are you going to shower again?"

Hilarious!