Do you hear what I hear?

One more note after Owen's bedtime.  I put Owen in bed tonight after our talking time (I think this boy's love language is quality time/conversation.  He comes to life when I spend dedicated time rocking and talking to him about life and how much I love him, how things work, concepts about God, memories of our day and what was good and what could be better tomorrow, etc.  I love those sweet sessions.  I tell him he is my favorite Owen and I will always, always love him, and he gives me a big kiss on the lips, and pats my arm and says, 'I love you so much too mommy.  You are my special mommy.'  Melt.).  After a bit of a struggle and the normal resistance to turning in, he gave in and laid down, then giggled and said, 'Sometimes the rocking chair talks to me.'  What???, say I.  Owen continues, 'Sometimes it says, 'Rock to market.  Rock to market.  Rock to market.'  I say, 'Oh, you mean when it creaks?'  'Yeah!  It says that to me.' 

Reuel and Owen go biking together now and then...last couple nights they've driven to a big, safe cul-de-sac down the road and had some long, fun rides.  Reuel told me (after I told him the above story) that Owen tells him, 'Daddy, when I'm riding, my bike makes music!'