My middle grandson is a big handsome boy. He’s now three years old but he’s always had those traits. A large newborn, a lusty nursling, Henry has thick curling blonde hair, intense blue eyes, button nose, generous mouth, and dimples. Everyone predicts he’s going to be a lady-killer.

He has a prodigious appetite, but I’ll admit it startles me sometimes, the way he eats. It’s not just that Henry usually wants a lot of food; it’s that he loves cramming it into his mouth until he almost chokes. Really. If it’s popcorn or crackers or grapes or dried pineapple, Henry wants to so crowd his mouth that his eyes water with the incipient gag reflex. I harbor an eating disorder and of course I see them all around me, so I’ve wondered now and then how it will be for him, as he grows older, if he keeps this up.

But recently I’ve relaxed about it, stopped worrying and started chuckling. You see, a mouth isn’t just for eating. It’s also for speaking. And I’ve noticed that Henry likes to cram language into his mouth just like it’s food. I suspect that for Henry, words are food.

He’s always loved books. More than other babies, a book was the go-to item for him. Recently he’s discovered poetry and now he’s eating that up. But it’s bigger than that. Henry collects syllables. He’s the most poly-syllabic person I’ve ever known.

He won’t let us shorten his name. He’ll answer to Henner but not to Hank. He insists on addressing me with the full “Grandma Marilynn” even after I’ve been there for weeks with no other grandparent in the state.

When I was around during the December holidays, Henry told me the nutcrackers on the shelf were just for “decoration” and that his favorite Nutcracker character is “Herr Drosselmeyer.” The kid was then 33 months old.

And last month, shortly after he turned three, Henry explained digestion to me. He leaned toward me with a solemn smile and said, “First the food goes in my mouth, Grandma Marilynn. And then it travels down my es-o-phag-us! Next it’s in my stomach, and then my in-tes-tines. And then,” and he leaned toward me and started his big grin, “I poop it out!”