Quiet Isn't Necessarily a Good Thing

Yesterday as I was busily packaging rush orders and responding to emails, I remarked on how much Jonah has grown up. For he was quietly playing in the next room. Awww, that's my big boy—gaining independence and playing nicely on his own. I'm so proud of him. This time is so precious, etc., etc. Sigh.

Naturally, bursting with motherly pride, I am compelled to go praise him. This is what I find:

Then I look at the tree. It is completely free of ornaments from halfway down (which coincidentally is exactly the length of Jonah's reach) all the way around the tree.

In my case (or his case to be more specific) quietly playing equals destruction. Lesson learned.