My little boy, Tom, pulls at my leg and points excitedly at the sky, babbling frantically. "Ma dada baba duka duka duka!" he says. "Duka duka ba ba ba ba!" I look at him and ask, "What is it?"
"Ba baba duka ka ka kaaa!" he says, barely able to contain his excitement. I gaze upwards in an attempt to decipher what this is all about. Then I spot it. There's a helicopter flying overhead. He loves helicopters.
"Yes, Tom. A helicopter!" I say. I repeat it for good measure: "Good boy! Helicopter."
These exchanges are sometimes frustrating. Tom tries to tell me something, but the problem is we speak different languages - me English, him baby-babble. I feel bad when I don't know what he is saying, and he gets frustrated when I don't react the way he wants me to.
I am getting increasingly impatient for my toddler to talk.
He can say "oof oof" for dog, "car" and "bird". He can also say "Peppa", his favourite pink cartoon pig.