This takes a bit of explaining. We were sitting on the front porch, watching Peter drive around the corner on his way home from work. Since Molly had parked in his usual parking space, he drove around the block & parked on the street instead. Upon seeing him approach the house from a direction completely different from where he'd been heading, Henry was deeply perplexed, and repeated this question over and over, all the way through bedtime.
"That's a funny-looking noise!"
Funny-looking, like crazy, seems to be an all-purpose modifier that means "delightful to Henry."
"What are you eating, Daddy? What are you eating WITH A SPOON?"
Occasionally, Henry goes into the bedroom and settles himself without a fuss into his nest of blankets on the floor. More commonly, he plasters himself against the crack at the bottom of the door, where he can watch whoever is in the living room and issue a running commentary/list of complaints, until we all crack and go to bed. Tonight, it was j'accuse all over again, when he deduced that Peter was trying to sneak a quiet bowl of ice cream while the babies were in bed.
Also, I just have to mention that I was taking a short walk around the park this evening, enjoying the sights of spring: At the west end of the park, householders tending their community garden allotments, Little Leaguers whacking balls, hipsters walking dogs; and at the east end ... a passing car with an enormous--real--parrot in the passenger's seat, and a couple of folks struggling to cover an iron lung with a tarp.
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| Sometimes, Henry tells me James is a funny-looking baby. |
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