Yesterday afternoon while Hubby and I prayed in the bedroom, the following floated in from the living room:

crawl, crawl, crawl “Oooooh!” Thump! Tinkle…thump, thump. “Oooooh, wah wah. Giggle.” Splish. Splish. Splash. “Mmmmm! ya-yum!” CRASH!! “Ow!” piddle, drip, drip, sploosh. “Maniacal laughter. Heh. Heh. Yum.” Splish, splash. Splishsplishsplish.

Eryn found Hubby’s coffee remnants from the morning and proceeded to taste, bang the mug and cover the table, herself, and the WHITE Persian rug in stale coffee.

I couldn’t stop her before it was too late because normally, one isn’t supposed to leave the ritual prayer unless of an emergency. Speaking, laughing, eating or excessive movements other than the prescribed motions of bowing, prostrating and hand raising nullify the prayer and you have to start over. Of course I’ve moved around to take away dangerous items or to save her from getting her foot caught in the vacuum cleaner — but this time I couldn’t see what was going on.

She usually spends the prayer in my arms and loves to hang upside down when I bow. Yesterday though, she was little miss explorer.

By the time I realized what had happened I was laughing so hard that I just walked away from the prayer to rescue my baby from getting too hopped up on caffeine.

Bye bye carpet.

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