One of Luke’s first words was “elmo”. No, not the Sesame Street character. He rarely watches TV, and when he does, it’s not Sesame Street. No, “elmo” was his word for truck. Cars he calls go-gos (no doubt from the many readings of Go Dogs Go he’s enjoyed) but trucks have always been elmos. In recent months, he’s mixed this up. Dump trucks? Dumpy elmos. Big trucks? Bumpy elmos. No matter how many times we said otherwise, trucks were elmos.
Until last week. When, while walking up the stairs to his room, he decided to call them trucks, and keep calling them trucks. They’re simply not elmos any more. Infact, if you say “elmo”, he corrects you and says “truck”.
All of this is part of his toddler word explosion. Car. Grass. Green. Money. Bike. Blue. Saint. Move. Play. The words just keep coming, as do the combinations, as he tells the dog (that’d be saint) to move, points out blue trucks, and exclaims that he wants to play on his bike.