It goes something like this:
Though we have no plans to leave the house, he insists on socks and shoes in the morning. I pick my battles, and that’s not one of ’em. Socks and shoes it is.
Baby girl nurses to sleep, ready for her morning nap. We’re rocking in the recliner, and the little guy is kept relatively quiet reading, playing, or watching a show.
I stealthly slide from the recliner and walk with my silent feet (I know you know the silent feet!) across the house, on the wood floor, cradling a peacefully sleeping baby, hoping he doesn’t notice us.
Finger to his nose (for the life of me, he will not move it to his lips) he follows, 2yo feet pounding behind me on the wood floor.
“Shhhhh! Shhhh! Shhhhhh!”
The pitter patter of little feet in our house? Sound like a herd of elephants.