For two days, our little Luke refused to go into the living room. Screaming bloody murder. . . Clinging to Mama and Dada as if the floor were alive with toe munching monsters.
Why, you ask?
We couldn't figured out.
So, he spent two days in the kitchen and entry way. . . Refusing to step foot into the living room. And if he had to, he ran through. . . at light speed. . . Back to the safety of the kitchen.
Snacking on his yogurt on the gossip bench in the entry way. . .
And hanging out with Dude on the little blue couch (also in the entry way).
Until last night, when we coaxed him into the living room. Dis! Dis! He screamed, anxiously looking at the wall behind the couch. The window? The pictures on the wall?
Until we realized it was the plants. The same plants he terrorizes in the kitchen
(pulling off their leaves and tossing them in the sink).
Their leaves shaking every time he bumped into the couch. . .
So we tried to show him the only move when they are shaken. . . And that the leaves were OK to touch. . . And they were plants (pants) with leaves (weevs). . .
Who were relocated to the top of the piano. . .