Robot Language

Fuss seems to evolve mostly regardless of, or perhaps more accurately, independent of, our wishes and desires. It's a relentless process that often turns our gazes to the rear view mirror, wistfully tracking a particular favorite Fuss landmark as it recedes to the horizon.

A minor loss but one I feel sharply is his pronunciation of 'robot'.

He's always loved them, and early on decided to call them RAWbuts.

The other night we were 'having books' prior to bedtime and the Wife, coming across a robot, said "look, a RAWbut!"

"No mama, it's RObot." said Fuss with a shake of his head.

"But what about the RAWbuts?" I asked.

"They're RObots, dada."

I mean, it's great, but still.

I'm starting to miss all these little details even before he grows out of them, just because I know he will.

Devra took responsibility for Fuss' Robot enlightenment, but swore a mighty oath that Keputch will survive.

I look forward to teenage Fuss asking me to pass the keputch for his bat chicken, perhaps washing it down with a swig of red juicy.