The Colonel's newest grandson -- the Hope of 21st Century Civilization, Dash 3 (H21CC-3) -- is three weeks shy of the first anniversary of his air-breathing ride round ol' Sol, and yet is demonstrating intelligence and physical ability quickly surpassing that of the Colonel.
Two weeks ago, H21CC-3 let go of any physical support and began walking, without any regard for the next item of physical support.
The Colonel rarely walks anywhere any more without first landmarking his next resting point.
Over the last month or so, H21CC-3 has begun training the Colonel to make animal sounds. He's actually quite gifted at this.
The kid, not the Colonel.
The youngun points at a figurine or picture of an animal and the Colonel makes the appropriate bird call, quack, roar, whinny, or trumpet. If the Colonel is not sufficiently robust or accurate, H21CC-3 corrects him with a better rendition.
H21CC-3 has begun to increase the rapidity and frequency of these drills to the point that the Colonel rapidly and frequently loses track and often erroneously substitutes a hoot for a snort, or a quack for a tweet.
The kid immediately corrects the Colonel and restarts the drill.
When he grows up, H21CC-3 will probably either be an NFL lineman or a globetrotting non-discriminating chef.
The kid loves to eat; will eat anything; and loves to share.
He wants you to share what's on your plate with him.
When it's time to eat, H21CC-3 lets you know it. If you are slow with the spoon to his mouth, he lets you know it.
His brothers (H21CC-1 and 2) don't eat enough at one sitting to keep a cockroach alive. Dash 3 would out-eat a ravenous pack of hyenas.
But first, he would correct their laughs.