Several times yesterday, BJ wanted to know why we had chosen his name: "Why, Mommy? Why is that my name?"
Finally, after all my attempts at explanation had clearly failed, I asked him, "Well, what would you rather your name be?"
"Number One!" he answered triumphantly.
Trying not to laugh, I told him that we didn't usually name people after numbers. He thought about this for a moment. "But houses have numbers," he said.
"Good point," I said, impressed. "But are you a house?"
"No!" he laughed. After further giggling, he announced that he is also not a telephone. He still wants to be known as "Number One," though. (Evoking all sorts of funny echoes with Star Trek.) And apparently BB is "Number Two." I'm "Number Three," and S is -- you guessed it -- "Number Four." (S was a little disheartened to discover this, alas.)
So it seems that the BJ's longtime affection for all things alphabetical is being matched in intensity by his recent interest in numbers. It started about Christmastime, with the introduction of the Chicka Chicka 123 tree, and it has intensified with his fascination for the TMBG's "Here Come the 123's" CD. His first love is still for letters (at least based on the number of times a day he plays or reads or recites "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom") but numbers aren't far behind. Good thing one doesn't have to be monogamous about these passions!