There's a certain quietness that I think all parents recognize as the sound of a kid up to no good. I was folding some laundry and Conan (I thought) was playing in his room, when I noticed it was quiet - too quiet. When I went to check I found he was in fact in the spare bedroom, happily browsing through the books, pulling them off the shelves into a pile all around him. Naturally, the first thing I did was go for the camera.
Whatcha reading there, little C? Marxist theory? Well of course. Gotta start young!
This toothy smile gets me every time.
But still, these aren't books for playing with. So we picked them up and made sure the door to the spare room was really shut this time, and went downstairs and read all of Conan's books together. They're a little more accessible (and have WAY better pictures) than those books on Marxism.
2 comments:
I know that quiet! I have two stories like that about Conor. One involving a container of powdered graphite (think: coal miner), and the other involving a Costco-sized jar of baby powder. In the latter, he walked from the room looking like a powdered doughnut wearing a diaper and says 'it's snowing in there!' That room probably still smells like baby powder. Conor was real big into the ultra-fine powder messes.
Awww - what a little bookworm!! He must have been so incredibly captivated to have finally gotten into the stash of adult books!
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