Although Deedee’s lunch hadn’t taken long, Ron was dozing in the playpen by the time they got back. He had gradually fallen forward from his kneeling position to rest on the side of his face while his knees and legs remained as they were. Drool ran from the corner of his mouth to pool on the waterproof pad of the playpen while one of his arms was curled protectively in front of his head. His other arm looked like it was planning a sneak attack with his thumb on his mouth. His outstretched thumb was less than an inch away from his lips and looked like it was about to leap into his mouth at any minute. His soft baby snores drifted up from the mat of the playpen to greet Deedee when she arrived.
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