And I really, really hate that word.
Aunt Becky gave him a 3-pack of Nerf balls for Christmas, and he is obsessed with them. His current favorite is the blue and white soccer ball (after I took away the football because he learned he could bite the ends off during the Palm Sunday sermon).
If only he would learn to crawl so I wouldn't have to go get his ball every time it rolls away from him. I know, I *know* that I shouldn't get it for him. After 10 minutes of him lying face-down, spread-eagle pointing at his ball criying, "Ball! Baaaaall!" you'd get it for him, too.