We've recently moved Ana to a big girl's bed, meaning she's no longer contained by the bars on her crib. This allows total access to the word at night with our rules being the only thing to hold her back. She's done pretty good at staying in her room after tuck-in, but sometimes she'll wander into the kitchen at nine and ask for a glass of water, grinning with delight at her new found freedom and the naughty joy that comes from pushing boundaries. Two nights ago Jen and I put Ana to bed, and once we thought she was asleep, began watching a movie called Friends with Kids. About an hour into the movie Jen, in a rare moment of psychic insight, said: "Someone is watching us." I got up, turned the corner and found Ana crouching behind the end table. She'd been there for a while, it seems. It's too early to know if she absorbed any of the swear words from her outing, but she's already become a pretty harsh film critic. When I asked her what she thought of the movie she rolled her eyes and said: "Not good. It was weird."
Ana recreates how she snuck into our home theatre.
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