E. has grown taller and the consequence seems to be that things keep disappearing and reappearing elsewhere. His little hand gropes the table (he can’t see what he is fishing for). He pulls off whatever he can, then walks away with it, and leaves it someplace new. So, spatulas are in my bedroom, deodorant is in the living room, and I still can’t find my kitchen brush. Perhaps, he just thinks I have no decorating sense and is taking the liberty of rearranging for me. How thoughtful. Thank you, E.
E. is even taller (imagine that…) since I was first amazed at how much he could reach. And now he successfully stands on tiptoe to grab anything that looks interesting (almost everything is interesting if it is on a table). I’ve learned the hard way, although not the really hard way thankfully (he has not been harmed), that he can now reach whatever is on our kitchen counter. This includes plates, knives, kitchen shears… So far he has dropped the offending object as soon as he has seen my startled expressions and heard the weird noises that leave my throat.
Sometimes it pays to have cheap knives that aren’t sharp. When I am cursing the carrots that won’t chop, I can just be thankful that E. didn’t cut his mouth when he stuck the knife in there.