On Wednesday night I was sitting at the computer around 6:30, typing, when I heard a loud THUMP from upstairs. This happens a lot, and is usually the result of a cat making impact with the floor after hopping down from a perch on a wardrobe or bookshelf.
This time, there were footsteps. I went to investigate.
Eve’s crib was empty. So was her room. She wasn’t in the bathroom, either– recent unsupervised upstairs time has led Eve to explore the functions of the toilet, or to turning the taps on and off in the sink. I found her cheerfully tucked in bed– my bed, that is, with the reading lamp switched on. She was perusing Where The Wild Things Are and humming to herself.
“What are you doing?”
“I goin’ sleepies!” She patted the pillow beside her. “Lie down?”
I scooped her up and stuck her back in her crib. She moaned about this, shouting “Come out? Want come out?” as I went back down the stairs. I waited, ear cocked to the ceiling, for an hour. I expected to have to make many repeat trips, tried to remember where we’d put the stair gate we took down while repainting, imagined having to negotiate with the Bean until 2:00 AM every night.
But, no. She fell asleep with the book tented over her face. And she hasn’t repeated the experiment– yet. But she will be three in eight weeks, so we’re considering taking the sides of the crib down then anyway.