From the living room I hear Ian sweetly sing, "Here's a ball for baby, big and soft and round." Giggle, giggle, from both Ian and Laurel.
A few seconds later, I again hear, "Here's a ball for baby, big and soft and round." Giggle, giggle.
And again, but this time with lots of heavy breathing and giggling in between the words, "Here's a ball...for...baby...big...and...soft...and round." Giggle, giggle, giggle.
I peek around the corner, and see Ian chasing Laurel, desperately trying to give her a soft, fuzzy ball. She's not cooperating in his efforts to play a game with her. Every time he approaches her with the ball and places it next to her, she crawls away. She skitters ahead about three feet, stops and glances back at an excited Ian, and delightfully laughs at him.
We sing this song in tot class and we read a book about being a big brother and how you can play ball with baby when the baby is old enough. Evidently, Ian has determined Laurel is old enough, and he wants to play ball, NOW! And, Laurel is old enough to know she can tease Ian by continually running away from him. (I fear for the boys that chase after her in high school and college.) So yes, indeed, they are playing a game and loving it. So am I!