This morning, Jonah woke up with laryngitis.
My son, whom many identify by his VOLUME, has been reduced to a pathetic croaking.
He is devastated.
At one point he wailed, "I sound like a stupid garage doooooooooor".
How do you not feel sorry for the kid?
Michael was snapping pictures of this quiet moment...
...when Lucy decided to enter the picture...
Every time I turn around these days, Gracie is either....
a.) Spilling every plastic bowl we own out of the pantry and blindly tossing them over her shoulder
b.) Emptying a box of Q-tips or tissues by the fist full
c.) Unrolling the toilet paper and SHREDDING IT
d.) Pulling Jonah's nightlight out of the wall so she can mouth the plug
e.) Sprinting toward, escaping through, or already out the dog door
f.) Climbing the kitchen table to stand on top and touch the low-hanging light fixture
When I put her down for a nap, I feel like whispering, "mischief managed" to her bedroom door.
Jonah has always had an expressive face. Almost like rubber.
I love those eyes.
I have to capture these silly moments before he gets too cool to let me share them!
