Angie's gone...

Angie's gone.
Macy and I are alone.
She crawls all over me while I'm trying to check the bank account.
She then crawls off of the mat and into the dining room.
I let her.
I get the vacuum and vacuum up all of the dog hair before she gets to it.
She makes it pretty far.
I guess she's done.
We rock on the swing outside.
She sits in her jumper for a little while.
She eats pureed peaches and puts the bottle lid in her mouth at the same time.
It's messy.
She grunts.
She farts.
I check her diaper.
Nothing.
I take her upstairs, read her a book about kissing, put a pacifier in her mouth, and begin rocking.
She points at the pictures making it hard for me to turn the pages.
She gets annoyed with the last page.
I cradle her and she gets annoyed.
I cradle her on the other side and she relaxes.
She feels my sideburns.
She feels my eyebrows.
She feels the chair and closes her eyes.
I keep rocking.
She moves her hand some more.
I keep rocking.
She opens her eyes a little.
I keep rocking.
She stops moving around.
I keep rocking.
She purses her lips and spits the pacifier out.
I keep rocking.
She's breathes deeply.
I take her, put her in her crib, turn on the fan, and cover her with a thin blanket.
All of that in an hour.