For the past month or two Juliette and I have been trying to teach Jason about numbers. Previously he ignored us most of the time when we showed him how to count—the best we'd get was a laugh. But it's funny how things tend to happen all at once with kids because over the past week or so he's been a counting machine.

Well, sort of. Right now he can only count to two. And I'm not sure whether he gets the concept of numbers or if he's just repeating the sequence of words. Whatever it is, though, he's got a fever, and the only prescription is more counting. He counts all the time. When we read, he counts things in the pictures. (When there are more than two of something in a picture he just starts over from one. "One. Two. One. Two." Sometimes he loses track of where he is, so I guess it's more like "One. Two. One. Two. Two. One. DADDY." But I digress.) He counts noses. He loves counting our eyes. So much so that carrying him around can be a somewhat dangerous proposition—you're liable to wind up with a tiny little fingernail poking you in the cornea. (This is one of the few things I like about wearing glasses: they provide some measure of protection for my eyes against unwanted baby fingers and drool and what have you.) Sometimes he just walks around, holding up both index fingers and shouting "TWOOOOOO!"

I've been trying to introduce three to him, but so far he remains uninterested. I'm thinking, though, that when he makes that discovery it may very well blow his mind.