This week he learned a new trick. He learned to open the doors in our house that have this type of doorknob:
I've become painfully aware of just how many of these handles we have in our house.
All three bathrooms, the broom closet, the door to Pepper's kitty litter and food bowl, the door to the garage,
not to mention, the front door. EEK!
Thankfully, the two super-important doors — the ones to the garage and outside — have upper locks, so that's manageable. It's the bathrooms and the subsequent splashing in the toilets that is problematic. I'm trying to block from my memory the image I have of him climbing into the kitty litter box, his right pant leg soggy from sitting in Pepper's water bowl. I need therapy. Pepper probably does, too. Poor girl.
On the exact same day he discovered his door opening capabilities, he learned to climb onto the coffee table.
Getting down... well, that hasn't gone so smoothly. One time he sort of rolled off, his tight fist still stubbornly balled around the piece of toast he had climbed up there to get in the first place. He was fine; he barely noticed the flomp onto the ground. Another time or two, he simply stood there and called for me until I got him down. But the most frequent scenario involves his older sister yelling "MOM! He did it AGAIN!" as she grabs him by his widest belly width and Heimlichs him down to the ground.
So, this weekend, we will be conducting the great doorknob switch of 2010. As for the coffee table problem... thank goodness we don't have wood floors!