It is a decidedly delightful thing to be a parent of a one-year old who's learning to speak.

For it is this time that we suddenly possess the almost freakish ability to understand an entirely new language nobody else in the whole world comprehends: Your baby's utter gibberish.

How else can you explain how a once level-minded journalist, who spoke and wrote only English and Malay (and some Chinese), can make out words like "jertee" to be "dirty" (accompanied by said baby picking up a piece of lint or old cabbage from the floor)?

Or "daagee" to be dragon (accompanied by said baby pointing to the cartoon depiction of a certain overweight purple dinosaur)?

Or "maa-yee" to be "mommy".

Hey, she already knows "Daddy" and "Yeh Yeh" and "Mah Mah" and "Che Che".

I'm taking anything at this point.

Anyway, all I'm saying is, this ability to spontaneously burst out in nonsensical baby talk – and to make sense of it – must be God-given.

Or we just hear what we want to hear .

Either way, it's all so darn cute it's all you can do NOT to hop in the sack and make another batch.

Kidding babe!