Karl, our older son, took no interest in talking until he was almost three.
Erik, the younger, was a little faster.
The first time I heard Erik speak, it wasn’t ‘Da-da’, or ‘Ma-ma’.
It happened one afternoon before he was two years old.
He suddenly took off running, heading out into the street.
“Hey, where are you going, Erik?’ I shouted.
He stopped, didn’t look at me, and said, “Annony! Annony!”
I said, “You can’t go see Anthony (who lived across the street) right now, and you should NEVER cross the street without mother or me holding your hand!”
He turned around and headed back for our house, still not looking at me, and said, “Awwight!”
Those are the first words I had ever heard him say. It was a conversation, and he understood and obeyed a parental instruction.
When I told Elle, she was as amazed as I was. She had never heard him talk, either.