We spent a little time (ok, J spent a lot of time) worrying about baby-proofing and a little time actually doing something about it (J spent a little time; I left to go watch soccer on television or something). As Emily is now very much on the move, we have realized that our apartment is one danger zone after another. Some of the danger is due to our professions (bookcases about to topple over at the slightest tug; a computer hard drive she loves to pull herself up on), some due to our passions (my gigantic CD tower), some just plain negligence (wires), some lack of income (cheap furniture that is easy to topple over). It's...well, not a nightmare, that would be too strong, but certainly upsetting that Emily crawls around from one trouble spot to another, as if she has some sort of nose for it--but not that she'd have to in this place. Her current favorite is the dustbuster, which is obviously going to have to be moved, probably into the same closet we put the paper shredder, another early favorite in her explorations about the apartment. The picture illustrates another favorite trouble spot--she's obsessed with what's on this table, and unfortunately, there's far too much.
It's made us see our apartment in a whole new way, not in a good new way, but instead a new way that says, "Man, we're slobs."
No comments:
Post a Comment