My Narrator

Turo frequently provides running one-word commentary for many of our activities. Our first attempt at church on Sunday was no exception. Turo made sure everyone near us knew there was “singing,” “crying” and “talking.” Anytime there was a pause in the Mass, Turo would loudly ask, “all done?” Not in a rude way, just in a I’m –not-sure-what-is -happening -next kind of way. Once some particularly nice music ended, Turo exclaimed, “clapping” and tried to applaud. I probably comprehended 1% of what was going on because I was rather nervous he’d bust out with something loud and possibly inappropriate (he has developed a recent fascination with pointing to and naming his penis, and I was convinced he’d blurt that out at some point). After he got a little too squirrelly (about 35 minutes in, which was pretty good for Turo), we headed to the atrium, where we met a fellow adoptive mother. I’m always checking-out families that look a like ours, so I was excited to chat with her. She told me not to be too concerned with Turo’s talkativeness because the church was pretty laid back. Thank goodness, because we're heading back next weekend.