Breakfast time, watching The G licking jam from her elbow. So proud.
She's not at her most impressive at mealtimes, it must be said.
But sarcasm aside, we are so proud of the rapid progress she's making, in no area more so than her speech.
You see, what she lacks at the table she more than makes up for in talking.
Jibber-jabber, from morning until night, often not hesitating to take a breath for what feels like several hours.
Her words are much clearer these days, everyone understanding much more.
That said, we've still got our secret language, me and The G, a code no-one else knows. I hope that lasts a little longer.
Yesterday, for example, The G craved a trip to the playground.
There are two near us. One, she calls 'two slides' because, well, it has two slides. The other is known as 'curly, curly' due to its slide's helter-skelter shape.
Yesterday, it was 'two slides', our presence defying the elements. Following overnight rain, everything was sodden, but it mattered little to The G, anorak on, waterproof trousers, wellies, the works.
No-one else braved it, their loss our gain.
There's nothing quite as exhilarating for a two-year-old than negotiating a soaking slide in waterproofs.
She was beyond fast, a blur, her descent made in record time.
Mud at the bottom, quite a mess, time to go home for another secret communication.
This time it came during the clean-up operation.
"Bubble me," she said.
For those outside our immediate circle, that means: "Daddy, please could you wash my hands?"