Thing2 is a little subdued today.
Most mornings by 8 am, he’s chirping with the birds outside, doing a sock-footed slide from room to room hoping to “accidentally” wake the sleeping thirteen-year-old giant in the room near the end of the hall. By 9am, he’s tapping at the door. At 10am, the giant has breakfasted and retreated to his cave and Thing2 dances outside the door with a soft mischievous smile on his face.
“MOOOOOOMMMMM!” usually reverberates through my office no later than noon as Thing2’s latest attempt to “play” with the giant backfires and the accusations fly. The tears dry quickly and round 2 begins shortly after the afternoon snack.
Today,the giant is away at computer camp for the next two, and the house is eerily quiet. The only chirping is coming from the open window. Thing2 has his nose stuck in a book or his head bent over the iPad. We’ll find something special to do this afternoon, but this morning, there’s no dancing or yelling through closed doors. There’s no “he started it”, and it’s too dang quiet.
Picking My Battles 