Being a proudish mother, like all proudish mothers before me, I proudly announce that the young gentleman can, when he puts his expanding head to it, count to ten (actually fourteen: there are two lots of fourteen cars). He cannot, of course, sit down nicely and eat a meal. Or lie down nicely and go to sleep. Indeed, at the moment he is most likely to say 'Go away', possibly to be accompanied by an imperious little wave of the hand, or a distinct shove, depending on his mood. There is no limit to what can be told to 'go away', but it is most usually mommy or daddy. Mind, you can get in real trouble if you 'go away' and do it.