He calls it the Nanny McPhee, next thing you know he'll be sporting a hairy mole (he wishes...I'm sure his little brain has been trying to come up with something). As for the checkup, he's in tip top shape, especially his mouth. I'm pretty sure the doctor didn't have a chance to get a word in through the whole thing (same goes with the nurse, the receptionist and the others in the waiting room). Seriously, that boy can talk, maybe when my sister breastfed him she passed on her jibber-jabber gene by accident?
So all in all a super fantastic, talking our ears off, day!
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