"Ma you want waffle tween?"

I was at the computer, Googling directions.

Waffle Tween. This could translate to.... waffle queen?

"Miles," I said without turning my head from the computer, "what do you need?"

"Waffa tween. You know, for you twooes."

Waffle Queen for my Clothes.

No matter how I massaged the words from MilesSpeak to English, nothing sounded familiar.

I pushed away from the pc and squatted in front of the couch, in between Miles's face and some show on Sprout, a children's television network.

Tell me once more, I requested.

"Waffa Tween, for stains on twooes." He was pantomiming squirting something into his palm and then rubbing it briskly.

Then I remembered the most recent commercial. OxiClean.

My first thought was, wow, the advertising department at Sprout would be so psyched to read this post.

I suggested we flip back to the public television channel.

"You bring my birthday back on today?"

Miles is very good about cherishing festive days. As late as March 6 he asked if Christmas would be back on again any time soon.

Today, the day after his birthday, he yearns for yesterday. I remember that feeling.

"Here's your pock-shit," Miles sang to me this morning, handing me an oversized Lego-like red block from his push truck. He handed a yellow one to his brother.

I considered Miles's word for a long time.

"Pock-shits," he tried to explain. "You know, like at the post office, or from the big brown trucks.... Where we get our pock-shits."

Packages! The UPS truck description saved me. Thank God our genius son can read. (See post from 4/13/07.)