I decamped everyone today upstairs to our bedroom to pack, but then discovered the truly monstrous pile of laundry that would need to be done before I could start in earnest. (Does anyone else feel like all of an item category, whether it's socks, canning jars, or baby blankets, must be clean before you commence packing them?)
Anyway, the three-year-old assisted me on sorting, right up his alley. I went to put the first load in and when I came back, both boys were giggling madly. A had parked himself under one of the piles and would leap out of it toward L, saying, "I'm digging, I'm digging!" And then they'd both laugh and laugh and laugh.
Mr. L is on the move. I am now officially barricading the top of the stairs if he's anywhere up here because he is skerry-fast.
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