And eye can't stop peeking either, following him around with my crappy camera...
It's like he knows something that I don't and maybe if I lean against the couch and look out the window too I'm going to see something brilliant! A bird with three heads and magic powers. A squirrel that talks. An ice cream truck with wings.
Because when he looks he really sees. He opens his eyes as wide as they can possibly go and he follows the world, babbling sweet nothings to the dirt and the woodchips in the front yard, the stains on the concrete and sidewalk cracks.
I mean, those eyes? They know. They have to know.