Yesterday was an interesting day. Both Jocelyn and I were sick with a stomach bug, and it snowed/iced here, so Oliver was home from daycare with his sick parents. We were taking one hour shifts of watching him while the other convalesced. On top of his normal not-quite-two year old willfulness and our illness and lack of energy, Oliver made a new discovery: The word, “No.”
At first it was kind of cute. We were reading the book Where’s Spot?, which has the word “No” in it whenever they look somewhere Spot is not. (”Is spot in the clock?” “No.”) Oliver was opening the clock or the closet or the chest and pointing to the word “No,” and saying, “No!”
That was fine while it lasted.
Then I found him “reading” to himself saying, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” (Flips the page.) “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
Also fine. He has no idea what it means, he just likes to say words, and he knows the things on the page are words, and that’s fine.
Then he started answering, “No,” to everything.
“Do you want some dinner?”
“No.”
“Do you want a drink?”
“No.”
“Help me clean up your cars.”
“No.”
“Be nice to the doggie.”
“No,” followed by using her as a step-stool.
“Buddy, come here. You’ve already brushed your teeth twice today.”
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”
You get the idea, right?

