So the kid's been pulling herself up on the edge of the sofa all week, just jonesing to climb up on the seat. Then she scrambles to climb over the back, or the arm or whatever precipice is handy. She seems utterly fearless, showing only the slightest hesitation before attempting to launch herself into space. Needless to say, this week has involved a lot of catching.
A lot, but not enough. I sat her in the middle of the bed, where she's gone a hundred times, easy; I knelt down to pull stuff from under the bed, and in a split second, she made a mad dash crawl for the edge of the bed...and she went straight over and landed smack on her back on a sheepskin rug. Several minutes of screaming and cringing later (which felt like agonizing hours to the guy who watched her go over), she seemed fine, but still. My sister-in-law swears she sticks her tongue out sideways now, "just like when Dr. Green on ER's aneurysm got really bad." Gee, thanks a lot.
If she doesn't get into Harvard, it's all my fault.