A Tale of Primates, Babies, and the Absolute Need for Dustbusters

I’ve decided that my children are monkeys (yeah, yeah, I know; we’re all monkeys). They’ve all recently entered some sort of crawling/leaping/swinging phase.

Thankfully, they’ve yet to throw poop.

A few days ago, that little one somehow managed to slither out of her highchair, perch on the tray, leap across the way to my antique sideboard, and stand tall while screaming something oddly similar to “King of the World!”- all in a matter of seconds.

This afternoon, that middle one (who will be 3 next month) was sitting at the table eating his carrots when I heard him say something along the lines of more Mama. I was in the middle of a very danger-fraught expedition through the bowels of hell known as this week’s laundry and told him to go ahead and get some more. This is common as I keep the kid’s snacks (healthy ones) readily available in the bottom drawer of the fridge…

A bang, thud, and waterfall of pings and pangs later, I turned around to see this:

It seems that the kitty was the one who wanted more. The angel that he is, my toddler hopped, skipped, and swung himself from the floor to the countertop and then to the top shelf to get that bag of cat chow- which he then promptly emptied onto my laundry room floor. Helpful little bugger, ain’t he?

I have officially reconsidered my stance on baby leashes.

February 26, 2007
Categories: I Heart Demerol


1.©2007 by Courtney Hebert as Judith Shakespeare.
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