We put a baby gate across the kitchen doorway yesterday, in response to Max's ever-increasing fascination with the oven dials and other things that could kill us all. We were inclined to believe that the baby gate would be an unpopular addition, and we were not disappointed.
At first, when I went into the kitchen this morning and Max discovered that following me was suddenly not an option anymore, he examined the new obstacle in his path relatively calmly. He went to work, with systematic determination, to dismantle or overturn his new nemesis.
When the challenge proved greater than anticipated (thank you, makers of the baby gate), Max's independent spirit cracked in a few places. He requested help in removing the gate, and was baffled and dismayed to find that his father, mother, and both cats seemed to have taken the gate's side of the conflict.
This is a baby whose Mama's cruelty knows no bounds. Not only is she not removing the baby gate, but she is photographing the subsequent rage and frustration! Oh, cold betrayal, thy name is Mama.