Remember how I was all enthralled with the pint-sized Ikea table and chairs Mac’s Grandparents gave him for his first birthday?
Remember how I was all excited to share when I gave them a chalkboard paint upgrade?
Remember I thought they were SUPER FUN?!
I WAS WRONG!!!
So terribly wrong.
The other day I was in the kitchen prepping dinner when all the recessed lighting on the main floor started going nuts. For a split second I was certain I was having a seizure or stroke.
But when I peeked around the refrigerator, I found Mac STANDING on his table, playing with the dimmer switches!
He dismounted, under great duress, at my stern insistence.
I resumed preparing dinner but not more than 30 seconds later, I heard a crashing sound. He was BACK on the table dancing around like he was Magic Mike and had knocked a canvas painting off the wall.
Once again, I “encouraged” him to “Please get off the table, sweety, honey, Huggy Bear and ooooohhhh look a spatula to play with.”
I didn’t catch him on the table again for a few days and I had hoped things were cool.
But then he started pulling the chairs out to the middle of the kitchen floor and standing on them.
He’s not a clumsy child. I’m actually rather impressed with his (meddlesome) physical coordination. However, when he’s perched about 8 inches off the floor, he tends to wobble around like Mommy after 1/2 of a box of wine.
Yes. Not safe. At all.
For a while, he’d only pull this little trick when his Father was around. So naturally, I blamed Chris for the whole thing while patiently ushering Mac off the chair, repeatedly explaining to him that we only put our bottoms on chairs and he could get hurt.
Still, naive first time Mother that I am, I kept tucking the little chairs under the table thinking that this time, he’d heed my warnings.
WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.
He started climbing on the table and chairs even when Chris WASN’T present. And when I asked him to please get off, he would look at me with this adorable naughty sideways glance and LAUGH AND LAUGH AND LAUGH.
This of course, prompted me to gently remove him from his perch. At which time he would throw himself on to the floor in a minor meltdown until I could dispatch a suitable distraction.
Still, I kept up with our little chats about bumping his head and how chairs were for sitting not standing.
I was certain he was going to understand any day now. . .
And then one day it happened: I turned my back, he climbed up on one of the chairs, and he fell off. Hard.
And I laughed.
Kids are so stupid!
And once we cuddled and he felt better, I took those stupid chairs to the basement. . .where they can rot for all I care.