But he awoke in a fretful mood (I don't blame him-our 3rd floor apt was 90 degrees before noon. Thankfully, the ceiling fans really do make it feel like a breezy 82, and the new silver paint on the roof reduces the broiling in masonry skin feeling to a simmer), so we just played languorously in the living room. Hide and seek with the phone was a big hit, as was crawling back and forth over Mommy's legs, and pulling up on everything in sight.
It was a slow, uneventful afternoon. We listened to the Cubs attempt to climb out of an early 7-1 hole and sang Take Me Out to the Ballgame during the stretch. I then remembered the soaker hose and ran downstairs after plunking Miguel in his crib (Mommy will be right back!!). The tomatoes and basil were quite perky.