Momnesia

I bought Emerson a Baby Einstein book. She loved it so much in the store that she cried when I took it away from her to put it back on the shelf. I was going to get her a rattle, but she liked the book better.

Swinging in her swing/high chair contraption, I hear her shriek with laughter. She’s holding the book! I wonder what it is that so amuses her:
the bright colors?
the photographs of animals?
the different languages?
the crackly material?
the squeaker?
the teething strips on the edges?

I lean in quietly and peer over her shoulder as she guffaws again and kicks her legs.

It’s the tag.