Moment 37 when you briefly suspect your almost-two-year-old may be possessed by the devil: You take her into a friendly neighbourhood restaurant that serves breakfast all day and she immediately starts spinning around, pointing wildly over the heads of the little old ladies frequenting the place, and shouting, "Cock! Cock! Cock!"
You are completely flummoxed, even shocked, and then you realize that the place is decorated in a rooster and hen motif and she is only trying to say, "Cluck cluck!" or perhaps "Cock-a-doodle-do!"
So right away you start explaining this to your husband in an overly loud and cheerful voice, "Oh how cute, she's trying to say 'cluck cluck'! Isn't she? You're trying to say 'cluck, cluck,' aren't you, Sylvie? Sylvie! You mean 'cluck cluck'!" And she nods, beaming, and continues to shout, "COCK! COCK! COCK!" all through breakfast.