This morning, Margaret was climbing the walls. Well, actually, she wasn’t, because climbing the walls probably would have been fine. She couldn’t get too far up them, and she’s slide back down onto her feet. Climbing the walls would have been a great idea.
Margaret chose instead to climb the furniture, and then rapidly unclimb it. She pitched headfirst off the couch, which she didn’t care for, and then two minutes later climbed into another chair, stood up, leaned on the back of it, and tipped it – and her – over. The chair landed on its back, and I don’t think it enjoyed it, but Margaret landed on her cheekbone, and it didn’t agree with her.*
It was at this point that I decided that climbing up things and catapulting down them could be better done at some place specifically intended for such activity, viz. the park.
This was met with great rejoicing, as you can see.
Anyway, Margaret enjoyed herself greatly, but she also managed to skin her knee.
Which was very sad, but she’s a tough little kid. She fell, picked herself up, said “ouchy,” and ran off to play. And then 10 minutes later noticed that there was blood, and needed comforting.
*She kept touching it and saying “Mommy, I hurt my face. My face. My FACE.” Very sad.
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