Elan’s current obsession is numbers. I bought him some foam numbers, the kind that stick to the wall of the shower. He spends hours arranging and rearranging them, in and out of the bath, and they’ve even taken on their own personalities for him.

A recent monologue:

“Okay, evewybody, wet’s go downstairs.” (flinging numbers down the stairs)
“Your turn, seven.” (seven goes flying)
“Where’s eight? Wet’s find eight.” (eight discovered on bathroom floor, catapulted down stairs)
Later, after everyone is congregated downstairs in the living room:
“You can make fifteen.” (he puts the one and three together proudly)
“Wet’s make seventeen.” (this one he gets right)
“Oh, wow! It’s a seventeen!” (can you tell seven is his favorite number?)
“1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10!” (in delight)
“1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10!” (in Spanish)
“You can make eighteen!” (and so on and so forth, through many combinations and permutations)
Still later:
“Numbers want to go in the batf?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay, evewybody, wet’s go in the batf!”
And up the stairs they go.