Yesterday morning, a quiet calm came over the house. The kind of quiet that does not exist in the house when the 16 month old is awake. By now, I've learned quiet kid = some kind of mischief.
I turned the corner from the kitchen to the living room to find my babe doing laundry. Such a sweet babe to fold that pile of just perfectly folded laundry for me.
Lane, you know better.
What, Mama?
I didn't do anything.
Guilty as charged.
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