As a kid I had something of a reputation as an annoying little twerp who liked to correct his elders. In this respect at least I can't complain that Matthew doesn't follow in his dad's footsteps.
Tonight, for instance, I got a little exasperated with his apparent inability to sit at the table while eating. (He found making swimming motions on the floor under the table more amusing.) "Matthew," I said, "Dada sits at the table. Mama sits at the table. Even Baby sits at the table." Matthew saw a hole in my logic. "Dats not table! Dats hightsair [highchair]!"
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