Well, well, well. Look at Miss Standing Fancy Pants.
A while back, when Mr. Candy and I were BICFs (Blissfully Ignorant Childless Folks), one of Mr. Candy’s colleagues mentioned that his 11-month-old son was trying to walk. “Awwww, that’s great!” Mr. Candy congratulated him. His colleague blanched. “Are you kidding me? I do anything I can to trip him so he won’t take off!”
Mr. Candy laughed until he saw his colleague’s face: dead serious.
Oh my gawd, can you BELIEVE he would do something so horrible? Mr. Candy and I have gasped many times since, shaking our heads at his questionable parenting skills as we throw back our Happy Hour beers and toss stale Cheerios in Miss Skye’s mouth.
Now that our own nine-month-old is becoming increasingly mobile, however, her hands immediately attracted to any outlet, cord or butcher knife within a 20-foot radius (why, yes, we DO leave out butcher knives… how else are we going to distract her from our decorative machetes?), I totally get it. Our freedom, our ability to take our eyes off of her for even one second…? Gone faster than you can say, No, no, no, not the SHARP end of the knife!
*Sigh* Why must baby-proofing be so complicated?
Now I’m glad my big feet grew even bigger when I was pregnant. BETTER TO TRIP YOU WITH, MY PRETTY.