When it gets quiet, something is up.
Take Audrey and her friend Alexa. They have more fun together than Audrey does with most of her other friends and, as a result, tend to make lots of noise. You know - running around chasing each other, climbing on furniture, yelling and screaming - the sort of thing that toddlers do together.
But while we were eating dinner at Alexa's parent's house this evening suddenly the background noise stopped. Sure - Grace was on the floor playing with blocks and making a small racket but the noise upstairs stopped. In the midst of our conversation during dinner I noticed it, but, seeing as how we were talking and all, I figured it wasn't worth interrupting anyone.
When Audrey came down the stairs her mouth was full of something; when I asked her what it was she opened her mouth and could barely keep the mushed-up mass of brown, melted chocolate from spilling out of her mouth. "I'm eating choclllllit," stammered Audrey.
As if I didn't know.
She and Alexa had been upstairs getting into Alexa's candy stash. By her own account, Audrey had one hard candy and shared three Hershey's Kisses with Alexa. But my wife told me later that Alexa's mom said at least 10 chocolates were missing from the bag which means Audrey very well could have had 5 or so, and perhaps a lot more if Alexa wasn't matching her 1 for 1.
That's on top of a generous dessert of brownies and ice cream.
Surprisingly neither one was overly hyper but perhaps it's because they spent all their energy playing together.
Noise good, quiet bad.
