Sophie counts her blessings that she was born into the western world where drinking water flows from a tap. She just loves to find the stool, hoist herself up against the bathroom sink (banging her head in the process) and try to reach the taps. When she is held up, she proceeds to slap away at the pooled water, bat at the dribble, and capably use the taps. She would spend ages at it but my back usually starts to rebel.
She also loves to move collections of things from point A to point B. Upstairs in the apartment, it is invariably diapers (clean ones thankfully). At M's office one night, she managed to swipe all the whiteboard/dry erase markers. He searched in vain for them, until just before they left when he spotted all of them in an open desk drawer.
Notice that I don't seem to spend my days running around with the camera at the moment. We will get back into photo-groove, promise.
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