Just like his friend Chloe, Jack can't get enough of our remote. He will dive off your lap if he happens to see it on the couch. I don't know if he likes the buttons or if he just sees us messing with it all the time. I can't think of many dirtier things to put in his mouth. I've been pretty relaxed about germs, but the conchanger (as Aunt Meredith so dubbed it) is too much. For that reason, Jack is getting his own. We have a small remote for some speakers that we don't really use. It's just the right size for him to manhandle and drool on. Lately Jack has been into picking up objects, turning them back to front and back again and then throwing them on the floor. Repeat. He's furiously exploring every object around him. His manual dexterity, along with the amount of thick gel-like drool, is impressive.
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