She is alone in the living room... Nothing to do. No toys. No options, except to ponder the possibilities of a coffee table.
Having no better playtime options... in she goes.
In a space formerly occupied by beautiful art books and lovely prints, there is now... a small person. Crouching.
After a pause, out she goes.
In again.
Someone should do something about the condition of this table and the dust therein.
But in the meantime, a pretty good place to hang.
In fact, it's enough to make a baby happy. Imagine what she could do if only she had toys.
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