“Is he always this energetic?”
“What do you mean?”
“In the jumper like this. Normally I don’t sit here and watch him the whole time but I don’t remember seeing him going like this.”
“He really likes the jumper.”
“I only gave him a little espresso…”
While Faith taught piano yesterday afternoon Zane and I ran a bunch of errands. He got to stand in lines at the post office, pharmacy, *mart, and the grocery store. I suspect Zane thinks that lines are good places: people in lines always smile and talk to you, telling you how cute you are.
When we got home he was hungry and hyper (uh, no, he didn’t have any espresso…I was kidding). Remember Steve Martin’s comedy sketch, happy feet? Zane had super fantastic happy feet, legs, and torso. Getting food into him was like trying to patch a tire while driving the car.
Belly time didn’t wear him down. An extended romp in the jumper didn’t do it. We bounced, walked, flew, and rocked him to no avail. “Bring it on!” he’d shout, if he could get beyond “ga.” I put him in the tub where he commenced to motor boat for about twenty minutes. Dried and dressed we moved to the rocker and popped the bottle in his mouth. After slurping down about 100ml to the soothing strains of brother bob he passed right out.