Traces

Ellis pretty much speaks a running monologue regarding his activities for the day. Because it is so continual, I often half-heartedly pay attention to what he is saying. His words fade into the background of our house like ambient noise. Sometimes I am surprised by little things he has done to our house.

This morning, I found these little pictures marking each of the doors to the downstairs rooms. The top one marks my office, which he likes to call my sewing room. The bottom pictures show the way to the bathroom and to the parental bedroom across the hall. Seeing these, I vaguely remember him talking this weekend about signs showing the way to places. I loved stumbling upon this window into how his mind works.

I hope that when he is grown and has moved out, I will continue to find traces that he has left throughout the house.