He is a healthy, active boy, an ordinary child.

I want to tell you about my son, he was born in 2016. He is a healthy, active boy, an ordinary child. He started to talk late, when he was about one and a half years old.

There is an abandoned house on our side street. I am walking with my son and he is pointing at the ruins - baba, baba. I ask, and he's babbling, I can't make it out. Well, time goes by, we walk, little by little my son begins to speak more clearly and tells me that there is a baba, a grandmother. I ask questions, what she is doing, what color she is. He says she is sleeping. And sometimes he waves his hand at her, saying he is looking. She is black. And his eyes are black.

So for two years he was like a neighbor to her, he is sociable, he runs to hug and greet everybody and he always waved to this woman. And then we were walking, and he told us that the woman was gone, she had flown away. And now he doesn't even look there. My wife says that when she was a child, a lonely old woman lived there, and then she died, and all her relatives are somewhere far away. The house was ruined, overgrown with grass.

When my son was two and a half, we went to my wife's grandmother's cemetery in the summer. We arrived, got a rake and gloves out of the car, and we were tearing up the grass and gathering leaves. I took my son's shoes off so he could walk on the ground with bare feet. He wandered, sat in the shade under a cherry tree, which grows on the grave, and suddenly he began to talk, just babble, tell us something, he does not see us point-blank - he looks to himself, laughs sometimes, smiles. I hear the word "mother" flashed through the conversation, and then he says something about me, making conversation. He talked like that for ten minutes. Then we got ready, got in the car, we were driving, and I asked him, "Who were you talking to? And he says, "Auntie Anya. This grandmother, Anya, was my wife's grandmother's sister, but she had no children of her own and loved my wife as my own. But she always called herself Auntie Anya.

My son also reacts strongly to the full moon. He seems to be a good child, but we are waiting for the full moon, three days before and two days after, and it is impossible to put him to bed every night, he is excited, giggling, running around the house, jumping off couches, chairs, and goes outside to watch the moon, then, after 1 am, he falls asleep, but he sleeps restlessly, all twisted, talking in his sleep. Then everything is fine again.