Camping

John likes to bring a blanket and pillow into our room sometimes and lay down. He calls it camping. Yesterday while I was folding clothes he started camping. A few minutes later I heard Eve in the other room screaming in frustration (not so uncommon...more of a squeal than a scream I suppose, but it's easily recognized as frustration). I wondered what was going on, but because I recognized tone, I wasn't really concerned. A few minutes later, she showed up in our room with her blanket and stuffed monkey (her favorite), and laid on the floor. Clearly she had been having trouble pulling them through the spindles of the crib, but by golly, she was going camping, too. Something tells me we'll be pitching the tent in the back yard a lot in the spring when it gets warmer.