What's in a name? That which we call a rose...

As long as I've known Truman to talk, he has called Harrison by the name of "Ya-ya." That's cool. Tru isn't the leader in the toddler-speech field and actually hasn't even mastered the shortened (let alone full-length) version of his own name.

So, I'm used to the Ya-ya thing. Not exactly a fan, but what IS one to do? And truth be told, I've caught myself even using the misnomer every now and then. The other night though, Truman really took it to the next level as he asked for help getting the last firefly out of his jar. I was just close enough to catch: "You do it, Ya-ya James, you do it."


What do you think--does he look like a Ya-ya James?

Speaking of Mr. Harrison James, he is getting quite the reputation in the neighborhood. His literal girl-next-door BFF Chloe was over the other day watching me give Dan a haircut. She obviously hadn't seen this do-it-yourself approach before and was eyeing me pretty intensely. When I switched guards on the clippers she wanted to know why I needed to do that. With H-man around, I don't have to trouble myself with trivial explanations of that sort; he's on it. He jumped right in, explaining that the guards were different sizes and changed how short or long I cut the hair. Chloe listened to the pretty much spot-on answer to her query, then sighed and solemnly said to me, "He knows everything."


Of course he does--he's Ya-ya James.