Anya's personal dictionary these days has exploded since I last wrote about it; I'd say she knows at least 100 words, probably closer to 200. But phrases are clearly difficult: Mum reckons she was saying "daddy car" while I was driving when she was over a few months ago, but there haven't been repeat performances so I tend to think that was a fluke.
That's changed now, though. Each morning we have breakfast at the kid-sized table in our kitchen. Kate and I help feed her, sitting on kiddie chairs with our knees around our ears. She's very particular about this whole process: if we ever sit on her favourite chair she stands behind us, grumpily thumping our backs and keening with frustration, until we surrender it.
Sometimes we'll be buzzing round the kitchen when breakfast is first served, preparing her daycare lunchbox or getting ourselves coffee. But Anya doesn't think this is at all appropriate: mealtimes should be treated with proper respect, so she fixes you with a reproving eye and says, "Mummy sit".
Now I know I'm not her mummy, and she knows it to. But this particular order is applied equally to both of us. I suspect it won't be the last: most toddler language is in the imperative mood.
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