Dear Hagen,
I don't think it would be possible to overstate how many words you use on a given day; talking is your favorite hobby. I remember when you were born, Laney was a chatty two-year-old and your dad held you in his arms, looked at your beautiful newborn face and whispered, "Buddy, if you never talk, it's okay. We've already met our quota."
But nope! Chatting is your THING.
One afternoon last week, Laney and your dad headed off to the local park just three blocks away so Laney could ride her bike. You and I decided we would follow behind with the scooter. You talked the whole way, stopping when you couldn't multi-task storytelling and scooting.
Hagen: Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom! MOM! MOM! MOMOMOMOM!
Me: I'M LISTENING AND STARING AT YOU. YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION.
Hagen: Here's the thing about baby raccoons....
Hagen: If I want my scooter to get over this bump, I'm going to have to press a power button. Okay...got it! Now I'm on Level 2...
I am not making this up: By the time we made it the THREE BLOCKS to the park, your dad and sister were already DONE with their bike-riding adventure and were heading home. Your dad convinced you to ride on the scooter and let him pull you so we could make it back around the corner before sundown.
Hagen: I am opening my mouth like this because I am a baby pelican and this is how pelicans catch fish. Did you know that, Mom? MOM! I AM A PELICAN! MOM! MOMOMOMOM!!
Love,
Momomomomomomom...
P.S. And here's your sister on her bike:
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