fail: a short story.

I was all proud of myself, smug even, that Oliver had never flipped himself off of the changing table. I even figured out ahead of time, before disaster struck, that the lap belt that comes with the changing pad could not contain him anymore. All it would take was a flip, crawl forward and he'd be free to stand up! And fly off the table! Oh ho ho I am so brilliant to have noticed this and not let him put himself in danger!

Yeah.

So this morning. I put him in his highchair for some Cheerios. (Oh, by the way, have you had the chocolate Cheerios? They're awesome! A low fat snack!) I get his stuff together, my stuff together, and run it out to the car. While I'm in the garage, I hear him start wailing  and I run in.

He's sitting on the kitchen floor, crying. My best guess is that when I (thought I) buckled him in, I didn't "click" the one side all the way, and he wiggled himself out. And then up and jumped out!

So I sat on the floor with him, and we hugged and about 3 minutes later he's all calmed down and petting the dog (whacking her on the head). But she let him, sweet pup. I gave him a cold bottle, because after thrice checking him over, the only probably injury was a possible fat lip. That seemed to make him happy.

Drive to school, tell the teacher about my ginormous lack of paying attention this morning, cuddle him a little more, drive to work. Sigh.

And by the way? It was picture day, so of course he'll probably have a nice fat lip or something in the pictures. We'll see.