Milo won’t sleep. Not in the screaming-as-we-pace-him-around-the-house way, just the dude-you-really-have-been-awake-too-long way. So after about half a day of various forms of working to get him to sleep (three shifts, including Granny on duty for one), we have given up. He is happily in his bouncy seat, cooing at Jason, who is killing mythical creatures online, when I hear…
FFFFLLLTTSPURRRRRTYSPAAAAATTYSPURRRTFLLLTT. (What is the onomatopoeia for Gigantic Wet Fart?)
Followed by a bunch more cooing. And reportedly lots of smiling. Maybe he will sleep now.