In terms of this Dustinland comic, two things are true. One, my son really does call me dada—along with everything else around the apartment. And two, somehow he does have blonde hair, even though both I and my wife have very dark brown hair. I know eventually his dada usage will move to a higher percentile of correctness. His hair on the other hand, that could go either way. Sometimes a blonde gene slips through, and he does have some blonde great grandparents. But there are also plenty of people who are born with one hair color only to wind up with something else after a few years.
I don’t care much about the hair, but I would like the dadas to be on point. I get so excited when I get home from work and he crawls over to me saying dada dada dada over and over again. And then five minutes later he’s calling the toaster dada.