Pre-sleep, pt. 2
Having run laps through the house the previous half-hour – and much of the day – Samuel sleeps. Karin snaps this photo:
He is running laps again this morning; and on his own initiative, he has graduated from the aforementioned biography of Agatha Christie to my prized coffee table book, Agatha Christie: The Art of Her Crimes: The Paintings of Tom Adams. (Adams and the mystery writer Julian Symons comment on Christie in the book; samples of Adams’s cover art are on this Pinterest page.) I have misgivings. The boy handles books rather well, but every month he does tear a couple of pages out of this or that volume. And he always has peanut butter on his hands.
I’ve given up calling him when it’s his nap-time. I simply take a book to another room, put on music, and wait for him to wander over.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The boy: “Some pizza?”
John-Paul: “We don’t have any pizza.”
The boy: [Cries.]
After this exchange is repeated several times, he comes around to thinking it’s a big joke. He laughs every time I say, “We don’t have any pizza.” Then, more realistically, he says:
“Some beans?”
“Some eggs?”
I am happy to oblige.
He is running laps again this morning; and on his own initiative, he has graduated from the aforementioned biography of Agatha Christie to my prized coffee table book, Agatha Christie: The Art of Her Crimes: The Paintings of Tom Adams. (Adams and the mystery writer Julian Symons comment on Christie in the book; samples of Adams’s cover art are on this Pinterest page.) I have misgivings. The boy handles books rather well, but every month he does tear a couple of pages out of this or that volume. And he always has peanut butter on his hands.
I’ve given up calling him when it’s his nap-time. I simply take a book to another room, put on music, and wait for him to wander over.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The boy: “Some pizza?”
John-Paul: “We don’t have any pizza.”
The boy: [Cries.]
After this exchange is repeated several times, he comes around to thinking it’s a big joke. He laughs every time I say, “We don’t have any pizza.” Then, more realistically, he says:
“Some beans?”
“Some eggs?”
I am happy to oblige.