Hello? Operator?

The waning crescent moon sits high above us as we drive towards home.

'ook, daddy! Moon!
Hey! Yeah! It is the moon!
Moon, daddy! I see moon!
Great job, monkey!

I continue driving, left to ponder The Wubster's daily leaps and bounds. He'll be starting preschool in January. It's hard to believe. Just a couple weeks from now he'll head to school like his big brother. He's a full-fledged boy now, no longer toddling through the world.

A minute, daddy. 'us a minute.

He holds his index finger up so I know to wait. Time & Temp has some important things to say.

The kid loves phones, especially Rachel's. If you were to call her while The Wubster was near, the ringtone would send him spiralling into an epic tantrum because she won't let him answer. He circles the house, picking up various toy phones and old cell phones, talking incessantly to his relatives.

'i Poppa Boyd. 'w are you? Good? Okay, bye.

This time he has his silver toy flip phone that rings a few seconds after you close it. He closes it and sets it on the couch next to him. It rings.

'i Poppa Boyd. 'w are you? Good? Okay, bye.

The cycle repeats most of the morning. Sometimes he's on the couch, most of the time he's doing laps through the house. Phone on ear the whole time.

The Wubster's going to be our little technophile. He can manipulate an iPod and iPad, make my computer do tricks I never thought possible (or can easily repair), heck, he's even taught himself to redial Time & Temp.

Looks like his baby day's are waning like that crescent moon.