This afternoon, I entered the nursery in search of my son. I could hear rustly little noises, but could see no Kittyboy. I looked behind the rocking chair, behind the door, no child, and the nursery is NOT big. It's a very small office-space. Kind of the size of a really nice walk-in closet. I could hear him. I couldn't see him. Then I looked UP.
Twice, earlier today, he had brought me books which I would have sworn had been put out of his reach - books awaiting repair for a torn page or cover, or which were beyond his attention span or something. Last time this happened, this daredevil of a child had figured out how to tip his toy box over and use it as a stepping stool to fetch pretty breakables from the top of his bookcase, then got something from the top of his very tall dresser by use of a rocking animal and a couple drawers pulled out. (here's the blog post on that)
This time, he was seated quite comfortably on some folded blankets in a box, on top of another box, on top of the former changing table, next to a shelf at least four feet off the floor, reading a book. His head was above mine. After I caught my breath, I asked him, "How do you think you're getting down from there???" He looked up, grinned, and launched himself in my direction. Every toddler knows, a mommy will always catch.
When Husband came home, we said nonchalantly, "Hey buddy, why don't you go get a book?" and Husband recorded the process on his cell phone. My apologies for picture quality.






Ahh, carefree youth. Nothing surprises me anymore.
2 comments:
What a climber! To only be so carefree again.
ooh yes.. sounds like mine! Sounds so much like mine. Part mountaingoat is what I call it: stuborn, eats things that shouldn't be edible, and climbs everything.
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