Jonah's Understanding of Numerical Units (revised)

So apparently I deleted the beginning of this post, somewhere along the way. Here it is:

So I've found lately that Jonah is using many measurement related terms, though it is clear that he does not fully understand them.

A few weeks ago, Jonah wanted to go play in the yard and so I dressed him all up and sent him out, and a few inutes later he was knocking on the door to come back in.
M: What's up buddy?
J: I want to come inside.
M: How come?
J: It's too cold outside.
M: No it's not, Jonah! (it was maybe 7 degrees outside, and he was well dressed)
J: (exasperated) Mam! It's like ten miles out there!
So cute.

And then yesterday:
J: Is Christmas soon?
M: No, not for a long time Jonah.
J: How long?
M: Umm, like two hundred sleeps.
J: (resigned) Ugh. That’s like ten minutes!

Oh, the last one, which is not so much about measuring as it is about straight counting, happened yesterday at the library. Jonah saw on the librarian’s desk, a jar full of candy for one of those “guess the number of candies and win them all” contests.
J: Mam, can I have one of those candies?
M: No. You have to guess how many there are and then the person who guesses right gets them all.
J: Can I guess?
M: You can try.
And so he proceeds to count to 20, which is as high as he can go. And then he stops, seeing that there are still many more.
J: Oh wait. I need to start again.
And he does, but stops again at twenty.
J: Huh. I don’t want to count anymore.
I’m a little sad for him that he felt embarrassed that he couldn’t count, because that’s what it was. The librarian and a bystander were both watching, so he was trying to save face. Seeing him experience embarrassment is new. Usually I’m embarrassed by him (or just as often by myself).

Here’s a lovely story of my most recent foot-in-mouth incident:
We were at the doctor’s and Jonah was being a turkey, because we had to wait over an hour to get in and there were no toys or even kids’ books to look at. So I took him outside and stood him up and talked to him for a minute about behaving properly. I was really embarrassed about how he was acting. Then we went back into the clinic and I say to the lady who I’d been chatting with for the last hour, “Well, he would be good in a condom ad.” (Okay, I know that isn’t nice and it makes me seem like a bad parent, but it is not at all that I don’t love my boy and want him very much. If you have seen that foreign commercial on YouTube about the boy freaking out in the grocery store and the horrified, embarrassed dad who is with him, with everyone looking and tut-tutting, and it turns out to be a condom commercial – that’s what I was thinking of. That was my boy at the clinic). So the lady was all quiet for a second, and I’m feeling like an ass for saying it, and then she tells me that she just found out that she’s pregnant. Turns out she’s totally scared. And yeah. I can back peddle and say that there are so many great things about parenting, but yeah. It’s hard to recover form that.
Next on my list of things to do before I die: develop tact.