Oh Brother!

There is a story I have enjoyed telling on my son for quite some time now and I finally found the picture to go with it.

He was just a little over two years old when his sister came home from the hospital. As with all first children, he had enjoyed everyone's undivided attention up unto that point. For the most part he did well with the new arrival and we were pretty careful to see that he had his own space and time.

A friend had lent us a nice little cradle. Placed in the dining room, it was just the perfect size and allowed me to keep a watchful eye, but still go on about the day. The actual bed hung from the frame and had a pin type latch to keep it from rocking. Without the pin the cradle would have a gentle sway with very little coaxing. You can probably see where I am going with this.

Standing at the kitchen sink, with my back to the cradle, I heard the baby wake with a start followed by the patter of feet heading down the hall. I turned in time to see the cradle doing a pretty steady rock and roll. After things calmed down I stood in the corner of the kitchen where I could see, but not be seen. Peeking around the corner I could see my son creep up to the cradle, look into the kitchen, look back into the cradle, kick the frame of the cradle, and run like hell down the hallway with a giggle!

After having "learned" that this was not appropriate, he would tease with the impish little grin in this picture.