Reid had a rough morning. I suspect that she slept too long yesterday afternoon because she was up past 8:00 and then I had to wake her this morning. In any case, she was wailing as I carried her downstairs. She asked me, “Your baby crying?” I could only barely make out the question over the ringing in my ears from her wails. (I’m convinced that Reid has experimented to determine the most painful pitch to cry in and also the precise shape of her mouth that achieves the loudest result.) Still, Reid’s question brought a smile. “Yes, my baby is crying,” I agreed and waited for the inevitable follow-up. It came - “why?” I told her I thought she hadn’t slept well and she was satisfied with that. Our morning got better afterwards. With Raisin Bran in her belly (once I’d removed the raisins) and her “Daddy’s busy little bee” t-shirt, she went off to daycare happy.