Off.

Silence. Wonderful silence.

I hear a crackle over the baby monitor. No. Sleep more. Please.

‘Waaaaaaaaah!’

Sigh. Trudge up stairs. Pause before I open the door, have my fake smile and enthusiasm ready.

‘Hi!’ ‘Did you have a good nap?’ ‘Cutie pants.’

R responds with content mumblings, begins grabbing at my hair.

Down the stairs we go. Attempt to set him on the floor.

‘Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.’

Sigh. Pick back up.

He sits in my lap. Turns around, starts grabbing my glasses, hair, face. Putting his fingertips all over me, probing, feeling. Does he have to? Why can’t he just leave me be?

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