Beckett’s Mother: Beckett, what is that?
Beckett: That’s a fern.
Beckett’s Mother:  That’s right. This is a fern. What’s that?
Beckett: That’s a cactus.
Beckett’s Mother:  That’s a cactus. That’s right, and what is the plural of cactus?
Beckett: Cacti.
Beckett’s Mother:  That’s right! What is that?
Beckett: Baby.
Beckett’s Mother:  That’s right! That’s a baby. This lady is about to have a baby. Any day now.
Verona De Tessant: Or in three months. Thank you.
Beckett’s Mother: Beckett, tell the nice lady what you know about babies. Go on, tell the nice people. . .Beckett! You’re being rude.
Beckett: Babies like to breathe, and they’re good at hiding it. I put a pillow over a baby. I thought she wasn’t breathing, but she was. She was sneaky, but I’ll try again.