The Bathroom. Our Bathroom. [Yes that is a washer in the bathroom. Dryer is the kitchen. Shut up.] I don't know what secret appeal this room holds for Elena. Perhaps it's the apparently never-ending roll of toilet paper, the porcelain bowl with water [which I have so far succeeded in keeping her from], or the cords from my hair dryer and straightener. Or perhaps daytime makes her reminiscent of her fun night-time baths, and she likes to relive the moments and memories. But I cannot keep her from this room. Seriously. It's ridiculous. She's even learned to open the door if it's not perfectly latched shut.
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| She saw a window (or "Door" rather) of opportunity, and raced to take advantage. I always know when she's headed for the bathroom because she starts crawling much faster. |
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| The tub makes for good support so she can dance and dance. [aka, squat up and down quickly] |
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| Waving to me. And I think she seems just a bit smug about having gotten to her favorite destination without being intercepted. |
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| And no, we don't normally keep the Toilet Paper unraveled like that. Courtesy of Elena. |
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| The down squat part of the dance.... |
