There’s one thing I enjoy doing with Titus as we lay in bed after lights out, and that is to talk about our day.
And I know he has come to recognise this chat as being part of his bedtime routine the day he took the initiative to get our conversation going.
That was the night of his dairy farm excursion. He stuck his bitten finger in the air and pointed at it, prompting me to ask him a series of questions about what happened.
And tonight again, after a harrowing visit to the hairdresser this evening, he pat his head and said, “Hair.”
We had a jolly time discussing why he was so agitated, and I took the chance to remind him that the haircut didn’t hurt.
Titus may not say much, preferring to grunt and point to express himself, but Awesome Husband and I just understand him. Our connection is amazing. I guess that’s love.