When we last saw little Laurie, he was all of two weeks old, and not up to much beyond squeaking occasionally, crying lots, and keeping his mother and father up at night. All this still makes up a reasonable part of his repertoire, but he’s mostly a rambunctious font of cuddles and enthusiastically splashy bath-times. And balloon-popping. We really like balloons in this house at the moment. The louder, the better.
Miles just came out of Laurie’s bedroom, and said “Hey! If you’re having trouble sleeping at night, I
have a tip for you. Start by rolling over
and over, like a seal. Switch the head and feet end of your bed
at least a dozen times, and while you're rolling, say the names of every single thing you
did and saw and heard and smelled and touched over the last couple of
days. Then pile all your blankets and stuffed animals underneath you, and
sing Baa Baa Black Sheep fifty times in succession. Over and over and over and over and
over-"
"Is he still at it?"
"Yep. Ninety minutes so far, and
going strong."
"Is he ever going to fall asleep?"
"Search me. He didn't even notice when i left. He was too busy singing..."
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