Quiet

Monday, August 20, 2007

Puck was trying to stealthily slip out of his bouncy seat to get his pacifier which had fallen to the floor.

“Puck, get back in your seat!”

Collette put him back. Puck grinned.

At about 3:30 in the afternoon, Puck decided to go on a rampage in his swing. Pouting his lips in determination, he pounded his flailing fists on the tray in front of him and rocked his swing as hard as he could, spinning the attached mirror like a flying pinwheel.

For the rest of the afternoon he shouted loudly at the dancing trees outside his window and squealed when tickled.

It was all shadows and light and wind outside.

Quiet day.