If you ever wanted to know how to sit on a lap but also be in constant motion, my son is giving lessons.
He wants all the comfort and closeness of a human seat but also all the advantages of moving around.
He treats my lap like a treadmill.
"Where you going?" I say. What are you doing?"
He just laughs.
Then climbs up on my head.
"No, sir," I say.
He puts his fingers in my nose.
I try to pull him off me.
But his arm is already halfway up my nose.
I have a big nose, but not sure how he fit through my nostril.
He wiggles, going all the way through my sinus cavity.
One more kick, and he's inside my head now.
"Son," I say, my voice coming out muddled. "You come out here this instant."
It's important to set boundaries with children.
His fingernails scrape against my eardrum.
"Ow, ow, ow," I say.
Okay, he's coming out now.
He's climbing out of my right ear. As he pulls himself out, he is laughing.
He plops back into my lap.
"That was so fun," he says. "Again, again, again."