Man of the House

My son has learned something from me: today he swaddled his sister’s baby-doll in a tiny blanket and cradled it in his arms. The blanket kept slipping out of place, so he put it over the doll’s face and smooshed it to his chest. I’m pretty sure the dolly couldn’t breath, but she didn’t fuss; she just laid there with her fluffy arms and legs sticking out like always. There is the possibility that her painted-on smile may have looked kind of frownie had it been visible while squashed against my little boy’s sternum.