So, I'm feeding Mairin. Since she's almost one, she only requires a top-off around dinner time and then some evening nursing. On this particular night, I'm also still working - tap, tap, tapping away at my laptop.
Leighton is quiet for a moment or two (which is certainly suspicious) and so I look up and whip my head around.
Woosh. Woosh.
Not to worry. There she is on her little, green PBK couch with a baby doll stuffed up her Dorothy dress, shimmering her fingers about. ("Shimmering" is the best way to describe it. "Fluttering" would be close too.)
"Are you feeding your baby?", I asked.
"Yes.", she replied with confidence. "But I also need my laptop."
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