Parker is a talker. No matter what other chaos is reigning in our home or in our car, if Parker has something to say, he'll keep saying it until someone is willing to listen. He (almost!) always has a kind word for his sisters, and randomly throughout each day will tell me how much he loves me or how pretty I am. He talks to and about God as a friend. But as much as I love what Parker says, I might love the way he says it even more. His enthusasim for everything keeps his volume level permanently set at 10. His big brown eyes accent every request with a sweet silent pleading that is difficult to refuse. And he still hasn't learned to pronounce "r"s. Until today. This morning my boy, describing his trip to a kids "musaum" with his grandparents, said the word "ARK" loud and clear. It's a milestone I knew would come (there isn't anything particularly cute about a grown man mispronouncing things) but have long dreaded. My days of hearing Parker refer to himself as "Pa-ka" I now know are short in number. I'm going to miss it.