Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Rather than learning to walk, Max seems to be taking his movement skills in an even more vertical direction, and apparently has some internal checklist of every climbable piece of furniture in our house. He has been climbing the couch for awhile now, and attempting to go from there to the sweet, forbidden land of the computer desk. More recently, he achieved the summit of the rocking chair, and has used this launching pad to try scaling the vertical blinds and to climb onto the piano. Max is not the kind of guy to rest on his laurels, however. The other day, I turned my back for, like, two seconds, and when I turned back, this picture was before me. What I mind the most about this is not so much that he can now evidently climb the kitchen chairs. What disturbs my sleep at night is the look on his face, as he contemplates the new and destructive forms of mayhem this accomplishment opens up for him. If he can climb the kitchen chairs, he can access the kitchen table. If he can access the kitchen table, he can spill/smear/break/scatter any dish or substance his unwary parents leave out for him. His future is looking bright, indeed.
Posted by Chelsa at 8:05 AM