I read somewhere recently that the sole purpose of a middle name is for it to be used to let someone know you're upset with them. I think Miles may hear his middle name a little more often than most :)
A little more about Miles, if only for my own recollection: Miles is a mess in every sense of the word. Our 32-pound wild man goes full-steam from the time he wakes up until the time he finally passes out nearly 15 hours later. He has taught me about a whole new kind of exhaustion---the one where there is no relief in sight---for years! He is also my shadow: the happy curly-haired cherub that wants to go everywhere I do; the one who presses his entire body against me when I stand and squeezes my thigh with his meaty arms. He's the loudest cackler I know, giving his dad's infectious laugh a run for its money. Despite being a man of few words, between the ones he knows and his library of hand gestures, he's able to say a lot---"ook!", "uh-oh", "nose", "shoes", "meow", "ball", "car", "beep-beep", "night-night", "choo-choo" and "Ooooo!" to signal to Pokey that something fell on the floor that needs eating. I love this boy so.
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