Applause, applause

A baby cries, a little earlier than usual. My afternoon quiet time is being shortened today.

The cries lead me to the room at the end of the hall, where Noah stands in his crib, facing the door in the dimly-lit room. His face glimmers with a sheen of dried and fresh snot. I can hear his gasps as he tries to draw breath through his plugged-up passages, poor mite. That’s probably why he woke up early.

You know how it really, really bugs me when they cry louder when you appear? Well, if anyone has a right to, it’s this poor little man.

But he didn’t do that.

No, he turned to face the door, his cheeks teething-red, his breathing congested, his hair a tousled mess, and…

he begins to clap.

Awwww…