I am, once more, so very proud of my son. We were getting him ready for bed tonight. He has a simple routine. First, brushing teeth. He has two brushes, so he can hold one and we can still do our jobs. He's getting better at brushing for himself, and the other night he actually gave his mouth a proper swishy rinse afterwards. Then he runs off to find his grandparents and give them both hugs and kisses, giggling madly the entire time. After that it's to the bedroom, where we get him snuggled into his sleeping bag and sing his bedtime song. That was "Rock-a-bye Baby" until recently, now it's "The Wheels On The Bus". This has a new verse now, apparently after the babies on the bus say "Wah wah wah", we can expect the toddlers on the bus to say "No! No! No!" Ryan is very enthusiastic about this part. Finally he snuggles down in his cot with Bubby (his bedtime froggie) to go to sleep.
Anyway, on to the reason for my pride. Tonight, as we're getting him into his sleeping bag, Ryan is pointing at the foam numbers on his floor and naming them. "Two! Six!" Now, he can't quite say "Five" yet; it comes out as "Fart". That's fine, he'll pick it up eventually. Nonetheless, it turns out he's already figured it sounds different from him. He pointed at the five, said "Fart!"; and then looked at the two of us for a moment and fell about laughing. He was cracking up like nobody's business. (This, in turn, I found hilarious.)
I think Ryan just cracked his first joke.