Playing the “night-night” game, wherein he climbs into our bed, jumps around like it is a trampoline and then pretends to take a nap. We play this game about 75 times a day when we are all home. It is a head injury waiting to happen but he loves it.
By the way, the gigantic pile of clothes in the background is what happens when you don’t have a closet in your bedroom. My shelf is much more disorderly than my husband’s, but he claims to love me in spite of it. Good man.