| "Baby shoot, baby shoot." Quin, who refers to himself affectionately as, 'Baby,' was much taken with a pop gun given to his brother some years ago. Whenever Max tried for a turn, there was a wounded cry of "Baby shoot! Baby shoot!" At last it was time to go, and Quin was carried to the van crying, although he cheered up immediately at the sight of the bat hanging on my front door and joined in a round of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. In the van, Bethia told me about the yellow tip on his sash Max earned in Tae Kwon Do. "Baby tip! Baby tip!" Quin called out. "I've got a baby tip for you," his tired mother answered while she strapped him into his car seat. "Don't throw yourself on a tile floor when you lose your temper and bang your head!" |
