When It's Quiet

Anyone who's ever been around a child under the age of 10 knows that when things get quiet for a while, that child is into something. Humans are born with the knowledge of how to not draw attention to oneself when they're doing something a little naughty.

A few months ago, Ollie's thing was toilet paper. He couldn't get enough of it. Unrolling it, dragging it around, and yes, eating it.

On Sunday, Michael was in the general vicinity of our toddler when he began to think, "It's too quiet in here." He looked around nervously for our child, hoping not to find him tangled in the blinds, crawling into the oven, or pushing against the screen of our patio door sans patio. Not there, not there, not there. He was found in the bathroom, leaning over into the toilet, head down, hands inside the bowl, splashy-splashing all around.

I miss the toilet paper days.