Layer Cake
Henry no longer screams in the car seat. This makes us very happy and means that, generally, trips to the store or the mall don’t end in wails (especially that last half-mile).
Instead, he’s become quite subdued. He’ll sit there, all bundled up, and just glower at whomever’s in the back seat next to him. Trying to get a smile out of him is like pulling teeth. (If he had teeth.)
I think it’s because he’s got so much on and he’s so layered that he’s lost his normal vim and vigor. With the temperature hovering below zero for the past few days, we’ve dressed him in a onesie, pants, and socks, a sweater, his bear outfit (which includes feet-covering paws and a jacket), his bunting, and a hat.
That’s one toasty baby.
The thing is, when we get home, as we peel the onion layer by layer, he becomes happier. Lose the hat, and we get a smirk. The bunting comes off, and there’s a toothless mile. Get everything off except his onesie (because, invariably, we’ll have to change his diaper), and he’s squirming and jumping and squealing. The fewer the clothes, the better mood he’s in.
God help us when he figures out how to take off his own diaper.
