Charles is getting better at fine motor control, although he doesn’t seem to realize it. One of the things we do in the basement is Charles will come to me with a piece of a puzzle or a Lincoln log and tell me that it’s broken or needs fixed, pleading in his eyes. In turn, I look into his wide, trusting baby blue orbs and say “You can fix it, Charles!”. Charles, his face lighting with joy as he is enlightened by Dad’s wisdom, then hustles off to fix it. Ah, the joys of providing clear guidance to one’s children!