He Likes to Put Things in Other Things

Last night after work, Hank and I went to our friend Kathleen's crib for a little celebration with the birthday girl. I needed to pick something up at home first, so we swung by the apartment, where I checked the machine and found a message from my sister. She sounded frantic, so I decided to call her back before heading out. Hank was a little testy on account of not being allowed to play with the phone, so I gave him my keys to entertain himself, which he did. 20 minutes later, my sisterly duties discharged, I picked up Hank and headed for the door only to discover, much to my dismay, no keys. I checked my pockets, purse etc. and took a cursory inventory of the horizontal surfaces in the living room before I remembered that I had given them to Hank. So I put him down and asked him, "Where are mama's keys?" he wandered off in no particular direction with a big smile on his face. I spent the next couple of minutes following the baby repeating, "key? key?" as he toddled around the apartment. If he didn't understand what I wanted, he did enjoy the little game we seemed to be playing. Feeling more than a little silly and getting frustrated, I stopped and flopped down on the floor, legs akimbo. Then it hit me like an anvil falling from the heavens, he likes to put things in other things! So I crawled around the living room looking for enticing cavities and this is what I found:

I'm just glad it wasn't the sub woofer again.