I think Atticus made his first metaphor this evening. While playing with water trickling from the faucet in the bath, he signed "milk." I was very pleased.
Also, I fed him spinach for the first time--steamed spinach pureed and mixed with barley. He ate it up as though he'd been eating it all his life; and in a way, I suppose he has, since I've certainly eaten plenty of it.
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