"What you name is?" Shea pointedly asks a lady or a child, anyone that interests him.
With a big strong voice, he says "My... name...is Shea. This is...my... mommy." He points up at me, keeping me within "hide behind the leg" reach.
Slightly embarrassed, I smile and make some comment about my name being "mom" and try to nonchalantly move on.
These aren't long conversations for Shea but they are frequent. At a typical day at Granny's Thrift Store, he may introduce himself 5-6 times.
On one hand, I am thrilled that he has the words and the sequencing to be able to introduce himself. Most people are enchanted if not a little flummoxed by such a formal introduction from a small child. If the chemistry is right, he flirts and chats it up with them about...who knows...this and that. Sometimes they can't quite understand what he is saying and they look to me to translate.
Sometimes I can see it in there eyes that they are wondering what is amiss. And, I have to admit, it is hard to see.
So, I paste on a seasoned grin, keep an ear open and spin off in the direction of the...let me see; Don't I need some shorts?
He is old enough to engage and have chats with people.
Wow. We have come a long way.