David spends his mornings at a baby-sitter's now because we don't love
him enough. She told me this story when I picked him up today:
She lets him hang out in a walker, which he loves. Apparently from
this walker, he can reach the kitchen trashcan--a white, plastic
affair with a pivoting lid. He will reach out and pull it to himself,
but can't really do anything beyond that, so he releases it. As it
falls back into place, it smacks the wall and the lid pops off. Then
he can pull it to himself again, reach in, and dig around. She watched
him do this three times.
The cat is way jealous.
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