First there was a game the boy calls "Fly." Pretty simple, really. I lie on my back plant a foot on his chest, grab his arms and raise my foot, and the boy, into the air. He laughs, giggles and enjoys it to no end — literally, no end.
|The decidedly unpopular "Sit in the Grocery Store and Pitch a Fit" game.|
|Pictured at left: the offending drawer handle. He's eye-level with the|
counter now. An unwelcome development as we've had to finally
get responsible with knives, forks, shredders, openers, plates.