I have been calling him: startling Charlie.
Because he startles dramatically. When playing on the bedroom floor, flat on his stomach, flicking the green panels on the Fisher Price house, hard at work on the plastic house, he knows I am there in the room, and yet, he forgets. He appears to forget. I say, calmly, “Oh, Charlie, should we -” and he panics. His arms and legs fly about. He presses his hands onto the carpet hard, so as to turn his head rapidly towards me, his eyes open wide in consternation.
Then, quite quickly, he calms again. He gazes at me, a little disapproving, then sighs through his nose and turns away. Soon he is hard at work again, flicking the green panels of his Fisher Price house.
(Also, because he’s so beautiful it gives me a start.)