This morning when I got up I noticed that the balloon had lost its buoyancy, and was lying forlornly on the kitchen floor. I heard Isaac milling around in his room, and when I opened the door he was standing on his toy chest under the window, completely behind the curtain. He poked out his head and said “Hiding!” This was a pleasant and amusing greeting; the odor I was simultaneously assaulted with was not.

Fondly recalling my full time duties as the poopsmith I changed his diaper, and afterwards as I was cleaning up Isaac ran into the kitchen and found his balloon. He brought it into the bedroom and said “Up high!” and let it go, only to watch it fall back to floor. A puzzled look came across his face as he tried to fathom this change in behavior. He picked up the balloon, stared at it for a few seconds, then handed it to me and said “New batteries!”

I laud his problem solving skills, and look forward to them being connected to reality some day.