Mi Abuelo

My dad decided long before I was ever expecting a child that he wanted to be called Grand-dude. After convincing him that said grandchild would probably call him "Doo-doo," he compromised (when I was pregnant with BigM) for G-Pops.

While we were at the beach in May, LM suddenly started calling him "Be-bops," which quite honestly is pretty cute. (But she also called flip-flops "be-bops," despite the fact that she could correctly distinguish between the two when pointing.)

This morning, LM absolutely broke my heart when she looked at the fruit bowl and said, "I have banana?" Up until this point, a banana was called a "me-nah" and I would have happily let her call it that until she left for college.

While we were driving home from the park tonight, she started repeating over and over and over and over and over and over, "Not Be-bops, G-pops. Not Be-bops, G-pops. Not Be-bops, G-Pops."

Bet that breaks your heart a little too, Be-bops, I mean, G-pops. Who told her she could grow up?