sister and mother walked beside him.
"Sam," his sister was saying in an eager, excited voice, "we just have a small apartment. And there wasn't an extra bedroom for you. So we fixed one up in the pantry. We painted the walls blue, and we put your little crib in there, and we took the dishes out of the cupboards and put your clothes in there, and Mom made curtains with unicorns on them just for you. I bet you're the only baby in Cambridge who gets to sleep in a pantry!"
Pan tree,
thought Sam. Rock-a-bye, baby, in the pan tree. Okay. Whatever it means, I'm all for it, because she said "sleep." And I am very, very sleepy.
They laid him down in the crib, and the woman changed his diapers. She used the same soft powder that he loved. Then she took off his sweater and,
finally
âabout
time
âshe took off his hat.
He took a quick look around the pan tree, wiggled down beneath the blanket they put over him, yawned, found a finger to suck on, and closed his eyes.
2
At first he slept a lot. He couldn't think of anything else to do. The pan tree was pleasant enough, but it was kind of boring. Sometimes they took him out of his bed there and carried him around. That was always fun, because he got to look at different stuff, and his eyes were starting to work pretty well now.
He especially liked the rocking chair in the living room. His mom took him there to feed him, and sometimes he got so interested in listening to the squeak of the chair and looking at the pictures on the walls that he forgot to eat. Later, in his crib in the pan tree, he would think: I forgot to eat. Now I'm hungry.
So he would yell, I FORGOT TO EAT, AND NOW I'M HUNGRY. It sounded like "Waaaahhhhh," and he had improved his voice so that it was quite loud now.
When he yelled that, his mom would come. She would stand there looking down at him, and she would say, "Are you hungry
again?
" in an amazed voice.
Sam would say, IT'S BECAUSE I WAS LOOKING AT THE PICTURES ON THE WALLS, AND I FORGOT TO EAT! which sounded like a very long, very loud "Waaaaahhhhh." And his mom would sigh and take him back to the rocking chair and feed him again. She was a pretty good sport about it, except in the middle of the night, when occasionally she grumbled a little. And once, in the middle of the night, she fell sound asleep in the rocking chair. Her arms became limp and Sam had to say "WAAAAAAAHHHH" very loudlyâmore loudly than usualâbecause he was afraid she would drop him on the floor.
He wasn't often worried about that though, not the way he had been at first. No one ever dropped him. Not even when they gave him a bath and he was wet and slippery with soap. They held him good and tight. Even Anastasia had learned to hold him tight.
Sometimes Anastasia took him outside for a walk. He liked being out in his carriage because he got to look at trees and their moving leaves. The pan tree had no leaves, which was puzzling (he thought the pan tree was very weird compared to the outside trees), but finally they hung something over his crib. It had colorful things dangling from it, and if he bounced in the crib, the colorful things moved. He liked to look at that now and thenâfor about two minutes, no more. After that it was boring. When it got boring, he yelled, I AM BORED WITH LOOKING AT THIS THING OVER MY CRIB, which was a slightly different sort of "Waaaahhhhh."
The only bad thing about going outside was that dumb hat. They always put the hat on him when they took him outside, and they wouldn't take it off, not even when he yelled I HATE THIS HAT for a long time. So he concentrated on getting his hands to work better. Any day now he would be able to take that hat off; and when he mastered that, he would never
ever
wear that hat again.
There was a whole lot of stuff to learn, and it took a while. First he had learned to bounce himself in his crib, so that the hanging thing would move and be interesting for two minutes.
Next, there was the whole
"Sam," his sister was saying in an eager, excited voice, "we just have a small apartment. And there wasn't an extra bedroom for you. So we fixed one up in the pantry. We painted the walls blue, and we put your little crib in there, and we took the dishes out of the cupboards and put your clothes in there, and Mom made curtains with unicorns on them just for you. I bet you're the only baby in Cambridge who gets to sleep in a pantry!"
Pan tree,
thought Sam. Rock-a-bye, baby, in the pan tree. Okay. Whatever it means, I'm all for it, because she said "sleep." And I am very, very sleepy.
They laid him down in the crib, and the woman changed his diapers. She used the same soft powder that he loved. Then she took off his sweater and,
finally
âabout
time
âshe took off his hat.
He took a quick look around the pan tree, wiggled down beneath the blanket they put over him, yawned, found a finger to suck on, and closed his eyes.
2
At first he slept a lot. He couldn't think of anything else to do. The pan tree was pleasant enough, but it was kind of boring. Sometimes they took him out of his bed there and carried him around. That was always fun, because he got to look at different stuff, and his eyes were starting to work pretty well now.
He especially liked the rocking chair in the living room. His mom took him there to feed him, and sometimes he got so interested in listening to the squeak of the chair and looking at the pictures on the walls that he forgot to eat. Later, in his crib in the pan tree, he would think: I forgot to eat. Now I'm hungry.
So he would yell, I FORGOT TO EAT, AND NOW I'M HUNGRY. It sounded like "Waaaahhhhh," and he had improved his voice so that it was quite loud now.
When he yelled that, his mom would come. She would stand there looking down at him, and she would say, "Are you hungry
again?
" in an amazed voice.
Sam would say, IT'S BECAUSE I WAS LOOKING AT THE PICTURES ON THE WALLS, AND I FORGOT TO EAT! which sounded like a very long, very loud "Waaaaahhhhh." And his mom would sigh and take him back to the rocking chair and feed him again. She was a pretty good sport about it, except in the middle of the night, when occasionally she grumbled a little. And once, in the middle of the night, she fell sound asleep in the rocking chair. Her arms became limp and Sam had to say "WAAAAAAAHHHH" very loudlyâmore loudly than usualâbecause he was afraid she would drop him on the floor.
He wasn't often worried about that though, not the way he had been at first. No one ever dropped him. Not even when they gave him a bath and he was wet and slippery with soap. They held him good and tight. Even Anastasia had learned to hold him tight.
Sometimes Anastasia took him outside for a walk. He liked being out in his carriage because he got to look at trees and their moving leaves. The pan tree had no leaves, which was puzzling (he thought the pan tree was very weird compared to the outside trees), but finally they hung something over his crib. It had colorful things dangling from it, and if he bounced in the crib, the colorful things moved. He liked to look at that now and thenâfor about two minutes, no more. After that it was boring. When it got boring, he yelled, I AM BORED WITH LOOKING AT THIS THING OVER MY CRIB, which was a slightly different sort of "Waaaahhhhh."
The only bad thing about going outside was that dumb hat. They always put the hat on him when they took him outside, and they wouldn't take it off, not even when he yelled I HATE THIS HAT for a long time. So he concentrated on getting his hands to work better. Any day now he would be able to take that hat off; and when he mastered that, he would never
ever
wear that hat again.
There was a whole lot of stuff to learn, and it took a while. First he had learned to bounce himself in his crib, so that the hanging thing would move and be interesting for two minutes.
Next, there was the whole
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