Noisy, noisy

The best part of having hardwood floors and a squeaky old house is that I can tell the exact moment, each day at naptime, when Cora sneaks out of bed to try on her high heels and clop around her room. Of course, the flip side of that is that she can hear the exact moment I start up our creaky stairs to tell her to go back to bed, and always follows that sound with the mad scuffle of plastic heels across her floor as she scrambles back to bed. The symphony of my days...