He pulls himself up on the little fence we erected around the floor heater to keep him from crawling on it. It is very secure, screwed into the wall. But he shakes it for ten minutes at a time like he’s trying to tear it down, like there’s not a jail in the land that can hold him. All he wants to do is to stand up; he falls down a lot, bumps his head, cries, and then wants to get right back up. He thinks I’m hilarious. We have a game where I ever so slowly scan the ceiling, like I’m watching for enemy planes, and he watches intently, getting increasingly more anxious as I lower my gaze, and
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