Sounds of Silence

I always wondered how my mother knew I was up to something naughty, or inappropriate. She used to say she had eyes in the back of her head, but now I realize you don't have to watch your baby to know she's into mischief.

For Sofie, silence indicates an amazing discovery, like stairs, electrical outlets, potted plants, or any form of paper. Needless to say we are both hyper-vigilant about listening for silence and finding our beloved monster. (And subsequently stopping her from getting into whatever it is she's eating or tearing apart)

This morning as I was three feet away getting ready for work I realized her incessant baby babble had stopped. I found her in a pile of toilet paper, methodically unraveling the roll and saving the best pieces for her next meal. I removed the roll and the special bits she saved to eat, and she immediately plunked her hand into the toilet bowl, as if to say, "Look, lady, it's either toilet paper or e.coli. You decide."