Meet Sir Chatsalot

Sir Chatsalot is 2 and a half years old, has brown hair, brown eyes, weighs about 30 pounds and is about 3 feet tall. Ever since he found his voice he has used it. And used it. And used it. It really is a sweet voice. He seems to have inherited his mother's gift of gab, which is great because who better to talk to than someone who likes to talk to me! When in his company, silence should be a cause for concern. His location can be easily pinpointed, just listen for the constant chattering. Even alone, he finds comfort in his own voice. Then there are times when his silence is desired. Is there a sleeping baby nearby? Is there someone to sneak up on and surprise? Is there a game of hide-and-go-seek to be played? Are we in church surrounded by people who came to actually listen to and participate in the service? Such was the case this morning. Sir Chatsalot wanted to have conversations with us, ask us questions, play with B, argue with B, all in his normal speaking decibel. Which, if you have ever had the pleasure of being in Sir Chatsalot's company, you will know is louder than most people speak. Dad had to take him outside after a few dirty looks were cast in our direction. No, we were not the only family in there with young children. I heard crying and complaining and giggling. All of which never bother us, parents of noise producing children. After mass was complete, we gathered our belongings and munchkins, and began shuffling out into the aisle. A little tap on the shoulder got my attention and I hear, "You have quite an active bunch! Perhaps you should sit in the back next time." I did not respond to this woman, I only nodded politely and smiled. As we were walking out of the church, I did think about how blessed I am to have a 2 year old with such great language skills and his great need to talk won't keep us from the front of the church. Although, perhaps we could start practicing his church voice.