Some of you may not have met my oldest;  he once blogged on JU under the alias of Hyperborean Wanderer.  He is a good writer and his articles on his experiences in Iraq were excellent.  He always has been an articulate young fellow.  MamaCharlie and I decided early on that we didn't like the sound of the "baby talk" that so many adults revert to when they are confronted with a wee one.  So we made it a rule that we never talked like that to HBW and discouraged anyone else from doing so...and I can be pretty persuasive in certain circumstances, so few tried.  The result was that by the time he could string three or four words into a sentence, HBW has talked like an adult.  That could be disconcerting to some folks, to be engaged in a real conversation with a child of three.  But the rule stuck through all five of the littlies and they all were very articulate speakers very early.  It has served them well, too.  
We lived across the street from a small neighborhood park in Phoenix when HBW was four.  One day we were sitting in the park while HBW was playing on the swings.  An older boy decided he would take over on the swing and pushed HBW away.  HBW stood up tall and angry and unleashed a chewing on the older boy that sounded a lot like a dad would sound.  The older boy did a slow meltdown and then ran crying.  I tried to keep from laughing, while the other dad attempted to convince his son that he didn't have to take that from a little kid.  But the damage was done and...well...yeah, he did have to take it 'cause me and Golfie (our German Shepherd) had HBW's back. Heeeheeee.
HBW has always had a little different approach to things.  He was just a bit under two years old when we lived in Texas.  One evening about an hour after a wonderful pot roast dinner , we tooled into Copperas Cove to do a little shopping.  In the store I noticed HBW was chewing on something.  I asked MamaCharlie if she had given him anything to eat and she said no.  She asked HBW what he was eating and he replied, "Meat gum".  Yep, he had kept a part of that pot roast that he was particularly fond of and was still chewing it an hour later.
On the way home from church one afternoon, HBW choked and coughed and I pulled over to see what was going on.  MamaCharlie asked if he was okay and he said, "I ate it".  We spent a few minutes trying to figure out what he had eaten, if anything.  MamaCharlie mentioned that he had picked up a wood screw earlier and he brightened up and said, "I ate it".  She asked, "The screw"?  He said "A 'crew".  So we did an about face and headed to the Hospital on Fort Hood.  The X-ray came back clear as a bell.  You could see the threads and everything,  So for the next day or so, MamaCharlie stood by with a fork at every diaper changing, mashing until the "Crew" appeared.  When he swallowed a penny a little while later, we didn't bother with the X-ray, MamaCharlie knew what to do...and no...we did not EVER return that fork to the silverware drawer.
The first day of school for a new Kindergartner is anticipated and dreaded by parents all over.  Will he fit in...will he like their teacher...will he be able to do the work...will he miss me and be homesick...????  On that first day MamaCharlie and little Humbordt walked the Wanderer up the hill behind our house onto the playground of the school.  They went with him to his classroom and stood at the door hurt and dumbfounded as HBW walked in, took his seat, became a part of his new world...and never once looked back at mom or the little brother.  They both cried all the way back to the house.  After school, MamaCharlie was anxious to hear all about the new experience but HBW made it plain how things were gonna be...he said, "I can't tell you...Its' a secret".
Now my little fella is over forty years old;  a senior NCO in the Army Intelligence Corps, a husband and father of two, and an Iraqi war vet X3...and when I ask him what he is doing now days the answer I get is..."I can't tell you, it's a secret".