Tools of engagement

In the famous words of Samuel L. Jackson, "Hold onto your butts."

My Crazy Toddler (CT) is finally getting to the point I've been waiting for since I initially found out my wife was pregnant: the point where he can communicate in ways I can actually understand and respond to.

It's awesome being a dad, but I don't think it really becomes over-the-top fun until the young'n in question starts doing expressive stuff like this:

— Hugging you without asking. There is no greater earthly feeling —this includes sports-based highs such as watching your lifelong favorite team win the World Series or seeing Kobe Bryant fall flat on his face — then coming in the door at 5 p.m. and finding a sweaty little human running toward you with arms extended and smile spread. It's a kick.

— Tickling you. Toddlers are the all-time worst ticklers. They basically just hit you over and over again, all the while expecting you to laugh heartily. That's what's so stinkin' funny about it.

— Choosing sleep. It's surreal — and quite pleasing — when you get to the point where you son or daughter can actually tell you it's time for bed. Sometimes CT will just lead me into his room and point at his crib. This, my friends, is a boy who has run out of options.

— Offering comfort to those who need it. It was awesome the first time CT offered me aid. I had accidentally slammed my thigh against the table, or something like that. Noticing my anguish, CT had the presence of mind to come over and gently touch the injured area. It still hurt like heck, but it was freakin' cute just the same.

There are many, many ways CT can now communicate with me. And while I've loved him at every stage of the past two years, I've never been more this excited to see him each and every morning.