Yesterday Marc started using a word that I had been sure would be his first. I've probably said it to him more times than any other word. "Yucky". And what did he use it for? He was guzzling my lemonade that Tata had made and dripped some down his shirt. Yucky according to him. And this morning he decided he'd rather squish his breakfast instead of eat it. Also yucky. But he still thinks nothing of dropping his toys in the toilet and then trying to fish them out and put them in his mouth. Or playing with the ever-fascinating diaper pail.