Charlie's NO practice has paid off--he is becoming quite good at his NO-ing. So we have invented the NO game. Charlie and I stick our foreheads together, stare each other in the eye, and have a conversation like this:
Yeah, you get the idea.
After round three of this invigorating game, I'm changing Mr. Charlie's Pants. He is doing Pilates--grabbing his hands just below the knee and rocking his legs back and forth, twisting at the waist.
I forgot to check to see if he was pulling his navel towards his spine in proper Pilates form, because I was laughing so hard.
He was singing No, No, NO, NO, NO to the tune of The Blue Danube.