Dance.
“Where’s the birdy, daddy?”
Run, run, run..
Exalted: “Look!!! A bridge, daddy! More bri-i-i-dge!”
Leap, run, bound, skip.
Fall. Scrape.
We: “Will! Are you okay?”
“My fine! My fine! Don’t touch me, my fine. Leave me ‘lone.”
Marching, strutting, arms crossed and angry. “Leave. Me. ‘Lo-oh-one.”
Brooding.
Sitting.“Daddy? No leave me, daddy.”
“Take my hand, daddy?”
Walking.
“Where’s more birdies, daddy?”
2 comments:
we have to figure out a way to bottle that up so we have it forever!
What a sweet verbal portrait of Will. :-)
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