This morning Alexander hoisted himself onto the bathroom sink, pushing with his toes on the moulding of the cabinet door so he could rest his belly on the counter, and looked into the mirror.
"Wow!" he exclaimed, "I am foh fabulah!"
He still can't say /s/ (though he does know that a 'nate 'says "sssssss" so he can physically make the sound) and it's still my favourite thing.
After he hopped down from the counter he wanted to help me "loot fabulah," as well. So he brushed my hair and put some "chop'tick" on my lips. Because we're so fancy over here.
"Wow, Mommy! Now you loot fabulah, too!" he told me. "Fabulah!"
I'm not sure why he chose today to use the word "fabulous" over and over and over again, but I'm not complaining about it, either.
When we were talking to Andrew's dad on the phone (video call, of course, otherwise my kids are confused about where the voice is coming from) I recounted Alexander's "fabulah" story and then we started asking who was fabulous. He insisted that only he and Mommy were "fabulah." He on the basis of he's just plain fabulah and me on the basis of he brushed my hair and applied chapstick, thus fabulizing me. Everyone else? Completely un-fabulah.
"Well, I think," Grandpa said. "If no one else is fabulous then they have to marvelous. How about that? Can Rachel and Meme and everyone else be marvelous?"
"Yeah. They can be mar-bew-lah," Alexander conceded in a bored tone.
I took a little video of Alexander shortly after he—spontaneously—complimented himself in the mirror, but second takes aren't ever as good as the first one, you know? His first compliment was so genuine; when I filmed him he knew he was performing so it's...different...but I still got him to say "fabulah" so we'll take it as a win (also note that at 10 seconds in you can hear his wonky little larynx make his goose call, which is mostly always under control these days but sometimes...still not).