Miles lied to me last weekend. He was informing me about how mussels have teeth called ballerina that are razor sharp and can tear through Hefty garbage bags.
"Where did you learn this?" I asked.
"At stool...at my other stool." My kindergartner attends only one school currently.
"I have a lot to learn about mussels," I began. "I'm getting a book from the library--"
"No, it's not in any books right now," my son said.
"Oh, then we get home I'm going online--"
"It's not on any pewter!" Miles barked, frustrated. "It's secret, it's ... tompitated."
Complicated. Either Miles is enrolled in a highly covert marine-life educational program, or his creativity is in high gear.

Miles leapt over a greater milestone this weekend when he mastered the Hard C sound. Last night, after some concentration and practice, Miles said, "Carl can care for the baby." We were looking at my favorite picture book, Good Dog, Carl.
This was the week I was to schedule another evaluation with a speech pathologist. Good speech, Miles.