Home, Sweet Baby Death Trap
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My friend Liz came by today. She was out for a walk with her small person, Alex, riding in a jogging stroller.
A jogging stroller is a modern contraption that looks to be better built than my first three-speed bicycle. It cruises as fast as you (i.e. someone who runs) can run. I get the distinct sense that I would not be able to keep up with my own child if I were to own one (a child and a stroller both).
Liz brought Alex in. It's his first visit to our place since he acquired mobility; he's about 15 months old now. It soon became evident that while we think our house is awfully nice, it's also somewhat of an instant baby death zone. After Alex ran directly towards the pointy glass corners of our coffee table, swerved to attack the stereo sitting on the floor beside the tall pile of firewood, paused briefly to stick a permanent black marker in his nose, and finally pulled the fire screen over on himself, we realized that he would need a distraction or ultimately a stretcher.
Luckily, we own about 95 cat toys, many of which are large enough for him not to choke on. I brought out the bounciest and least cat-gnawed of them. It turns out Alex fetches somewhat better than our cat, though not quite at the level of a black lab. But he's young still, and should soon outpace all other fetchers I know.
Ultimately, Alex tired of trying to injure himself or put up with me, and he wandered into our bathroom, where he amused himself for about 12 straight minutes by opening and closing the cupboards under the bathroom sink, completely ignoring the contents. Liz tells us that he's got a thing for opening and closing doors, loves doing it endlessly, which could mean he's bound for a career as a diplomat, or perhaps a burgler. But probably a diplomat, considering how carefully he chose his words and how well he managed to communicate his feelings to us, despite speaking no known language.
He's a charming little fellow, and I can't wait to have him back, as soon as our house is completely empty and covered in bubble wrap.
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