Toby has a new word. It's much more agreeable than his previous love of "No." Now after hanging from the doorknob and pounding his feet against the door while screaming "ah, ah, AH, AHHH!!!!" I will ask him something sarcastic like, "Um...do you want to go outside, Toby?" And he will drop to the floor, smile sweetly, and say, "OK." It's hard to capture all the implications of his answer with the written word. Sometimes it's a short, sweet,"OK," like, "Oh, I hadn't thought of that, but if you say so, Mommy." Sometimes it's a low-toned, drawn out, "Ohhh-Kayyyy," like, "Now we're talking." The real genius of this new vocabulary addition is that I didn't actually agree to taking him outside, but somehow I feel bound to comply with his expectation after such an answer.
So it goes on, Toby climbs on the table and tries to steal leftover bits of cereal from his sisters' bowls. I remark, "You just said you were 'all done' and insisted on climbing out of your high-chair, and you think you need another snack right now?" Toby will brighten and raise his eyebrows, "OK." Toby climbs in the driver's seat of the minivan and grabs the steering wheel. I remark to the girls, "I guess Toby's driving us today." "OK," Toby agrees. Toby curls his little fingers over the top of the dryer, pulls with all his might, and attempts to walk his bare-feet up the side of the dryer suction-cup style. "You really think you can climb on top of the dryer, Toby?" I ask. "Ohhhhh-Kayyyyy," he growls.
He has optimism. He has ambition. He has perseverance. He will succeed, if that's OK with you.