This Doesn't Count

For some time now, Cubby has been talking quite clearly in single words, but not quite stringing the words together to form a sentence.  Until this morning.  I think.

He had his hammer and was standing there with it, looking as if he might be contemplating hammering the coffee table.  So I suggested to him he should go to his toy box and get out the bench with the pegs so he could hammer on that.

He looked at me for a second and then said, "Mom?"

"Yes?" I replied.

And then, quite definitely, he said, "Get it."

Am I hearing this correctly?  My child's first sentence was a peremptory, "Mom, get it"? Swell.

I, of course, replied that Cubby could get his own bench from the toy box.  Which he did.

I'm not counting this as the first sentence, however, both because I would really like his first sentence to be something nice like, "Mom, love you,*" and also because there was that pause in between the two parts of the sentence.  So technically, it doesn't count.

I fear, however, that this is the sentence that will go down in family history as the earliest spoken indication of Cubby's character.  Much like his father's first sentence--"No, don't want to!"--was a pretty reliable indicator of his personality for the rest of his life.

Maybe we should encourage Cubby to join the military.  Then he could become an officer and tell people what to do all the time.  But until then, he's out of luck.

* There is about as much chance of this, I fear, as there is a chance that I will retrieve a peg bench in response to a command from my two year old.  That is, none.