Work Text:
Dean waved his pudgy arms at John the second his daddy walked into the room. “Dada.”
John stopped in his tracks and stared at his wife. “When did he start saying this?”
Mary chuckled softly to herself. “He’s just repeating sounds, John. It’s not really a word.”
Her husband shot her a mock glare. “Your son might just be repeating sounds. But not mine. My boy is saying Daddy.” A huge smile widened across his face as he bent to scoop his son up into his arms. “Come on, Dean. Say Daddy.”
Dean flashed a toothless grin. “Dada, dada, dada.”