Last Saturday afternoon, we spent time with my brother in-law and sister in-law. Son #1 played video games while Son #2 played in his play pen with his toys. It was a lovely afternoon filled with talking and laughter.
Son #2 busied himself with his toy phone and toy guitar. Periodically, he would chew on a squeaky toy and then move on to his hopping bunny. He had been in his play pen a while when he stood up and began to chatter. He was trying hard to get our attention. All Son #2 wanted was to get down and investigate his aunt and uncle's home. From time to time, we could hear Son #2 say. "Get down?"
My sister in-law and I tried to get Son #2 interested in his toys again. We played goofy games with him as he squealed and giggled. When we felt we had successfully reengaged him with his toys, we began to converse with each other again.
Alas, Son #2 was not to remain peacefully playing in his play pen. One by one, he picked up his toys and began to toss them out from his place of captivity. First, he threw the smaller toys. Then, he chunked his toy guitar. The guitar crashed to the wood floor like a tree in a forest cut down by loggers. Amused, my sister in-law and I placed his toys back into play pen. We played silly games to entertain him until we thought he had been sufficiently pacified.
Not long after continuing our conversation, Son #2 began to throw his toys with a vengeance. The toys flew like falling stars onto the wooden floor. The toy guitar swooped through the air like a meteorite headed for Earth to cause an extinction level event.
Our peaceful afternoon was finished. Son #2 was freed from his enclosure. In his little mind, I could hear him declare himself victorious. Little did he know that his plans to explore the house would be foiled.