Nahum talks a lot. He moves a lot. He makes a lot of noise all of the time. He makes truck noises, water shooting out of fire hose noises, drill noises. He informs me his mouth is farting again. He talks, laughs and asks a lot a lot a lot of questions. Yesterday he asked for the two empty toilet paper rolls that we just *happen* to have lying around the bathroom. I said sure. He said can I keep them forever? I said like until you are 25? He said yes. I asked what he wanted them for...he said pipes. My son is Cat the Builder. He loves to build houses and uses lots of pipes. (his poppy is a plumber) He then ran around the house with his pipes making worker man noises. He loaded up rocks and sticks and pieces of wood, the same toys he has been playing with since he began playing with anything at all. He has a tool box filled with nails, drill bits, hammers, wrenches, water pumps, his own drill and a hand saw. Sometimes I sigh at how boy he is. Then he brings me flowers, lots of flowers, or asks me to hold him, or happily picks out one of his many pink shirts handed down from his good friend, Greta. He *makes* food for monkey, squirrel, and his many friends. He puts baby Avi to bed and gives Dov a ride in the stroller. He reads them stories, fixes their boo boos, and cuddles them tight (all his *friends* that is). Then he scoots off before I can finish my thoughts and resumes his work at the drills...loudly.