I've come to the realization that I might be (slightly) warping my child. Stitch is only a year old, but I've already managed to instill in him a love for books. We read all the usual shapes, farm animals, counting books, but I also read aloud from my fantasy novels, and discuss my own writing projects with him. When his grandmother (also a writer) is babysitting, I've learned she does the same thing.
And then there is the small matter that I've gotten Stitch hooked on my childhood favorite cartoon: Pinky & the Brain. He dances to the theme song and watches Brain's plots for world domination very seriously. Then my husband had to step in and teach him to zombie-walk while growling "braaiiins."
So, when my sweet little Stitch is in his room being suspiciously quiet, I'm positive he's either communing with the fair folk, pondering ways to overthrow his parents, or simply dreaming about snacking on our heads. Is this normal? :) Happy Wednesday.