Billy wasn’t just a baby; he was a chaotic force of nature. In his mind, the world was a giant playground of spicy hazards.
Billy didn't cry. He simply pivoted. With a giggle that sounded suspiciously like a challenge, he bolted toward the laundry room. Tom barely had time to stand up before he heard the distinct clink of the washing machine door opening. "Billy, out of the dryer! That is not a spaceship!"
Tom yanked the boy out, only to realize the house had gone silent. A silent baby is a dangerous baby. He spun around. The glass cleaner was missing from under the sink. He found Billy in the living room, holding the blue spray bottle like a vintage champagne, ready to take a celebratory swig.