This weekend was one full of broken glass. And this wasn’t thin glass like on a champagne flute. Nope. This was thick, sturdy glass. Glass that in a normal situation is more likely to fall on its side and roll around a little. This time? Not so much. This time, both items met their demise on the tile of my bathroom floor.
Did we have an earthquake? A poltergeist invasion perhaps? Nope. The culprit is much more sinister.
The guilty party: Beckett. One speedy 11 month old who must have been a cat in a previous life with how much he enjoys pushing things over edges.
Seriously, every time he’s chilling in his high chair with a bottle and chucks it over the side, I can’t help but think of the mug smashing scene in Thor. “I like this. *smash* Another!”
I try to avoid being a helicopter mom, so I let him do his own thing so long as he’s in sight. In these instances, I had eyes on him but he just beat me to the punch. It’s definitely frustrating feeling like the object facing its imminent demise is mere inches out of reach. At least the memory of my Burberry perfume will live on so long as the scent still lingers in the master suite. Thank god it smells good.
The overall takeaway: Kids, especially little kids, are much faster than they get credit for. And you’re always one step farther away from them than you actually need to be when it comes to fighting gravity.