Evelyn loves playing in her room. I don't know why I don't dump her in there more often. Maybe the fact that she doesn't play in there very much lends to its appeal. Most of her toys are in the living room, but she likes the novelty of pulling books and toys off her little bookcase, pulling up on her crib, and staring at pictures of animals on the walls.
So she was happy and playing in there last night while I loaded the dishwasher, until she wasn't. She started fussing and calling for me. I hadn't heard her fall down, so I wasn't really sure why she'd need me.
I went in her room and saw this:
(Please ignore our beautiful Home Depot bucket full of dirty diapers.)
There she was, my skillful little climber. I'm not sure how she got herself into the laundry basket full of dirty clothes, but she did. I did know, however, that she'd probably be trying to hop out for a while before she realized that she needed me.
So I did what any reasonable parent would do. I laughed at her and ran away in search of my camera.
She understood. See?