Am I Bad or a Nice Lady?

Today I woke to hear Sam hollering down the hallway from his crib, "Sam want to wake up!" Even though I was dying for a few more minutes of sleep at 0'dark-thirty, it still cracked me up as it has for a while now.  The fact of the matter is that it amuses me so much that I can't bring myself to correct him.  

This afternoon when I got Sam up from his nap, he announced, "Sam needs his brown boot back on.  Sam's brown boot fell off his sock."  Did I correct him?  I think you know the answer.  I just put the brown boot back on as ordered.  And the same goes for him referring to himself in the third person a la Bob Dole for months on end.

"Mommy, help you!" is another favorite.  Of course it makes sense to him -- and me.  I use "you" to refer to him, so he uses it to refer to himself as well.  Right, but not right.  Do I correct him?  Sheepishly I admit no.  No, no I don't.  Am I bad?

Last weekend I was out by myself returning things and buying new things so I can return them this weekend.   Sam was home with Daddy Mac having some male bonding time which they both love.  (And I so love to give it to them.)  When Sam went to the window to look for me, Bernie asked, "Do you love Mommy?"  He replied, "She's a nice lady."

As long as he thinks I'm a nice lady, I guess I'm doing OK.  Hopefully no one will correct him. The rest will come over time.  

LibbY