Deconstructing Ilya

Mama’s mad at me. Well, papa too. There was that day when papa was babysitting me. He was trying to get me to nap but my eyes just would not close. Try as he might to get me to sleep, it ended with papa nodding off first …. hihihi. Since papa has fallen asleep and I haven’t … sweet freedom! As I got off the bed, my eyes spied the bedside tissue box. Now, being a baby, how could I not play with something so deliciously fun? So, I grabbed the box and sat myself nicely at the foot of the bed. As I started to pull one tissue at a time, the excitement grew. I continued pulling each and every one of the tissue pieces like crazy. A few minutes later, papa woke up and startled me in my tissue pile. There was I knee deep in a heap, caught red-handed. It was a funny sight, but papa was not laughing at all. The next day, when mama was busy doing her knitting thingy, I got hold of the wet tissue box from behind the pram. You know me, never to miss anything fun, started to... you guessed it, take out the tissues from this box. But before I had a nice big pile, mama caught me and ended my fun.