The other day, I am down on my hands and knees in the family room looking all over for a little plastic ball missing from one of Will's toys. I'm climbing all over...getting frustrated. Then all of a sudden, Will comes crawling over to me, pulls on my shirt, hands me a toy, and starts laughing.
He thought I was on the floor to play with him.
I almost said, "No, honey, not right now, I'm busy looking for a ball." But I caught myself.
I realized the chance I had. I was on the floor, on his level, in his world. And he was excited to have me there! So we played.
I need to get on the floor more. Not just to mop it or clean up, but to play.
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