It's just a game. A game of throwing things under the baby gate and down the stairs to see if the kitty will chase them. Every day we comb the stairs retrieving any and all objects Topher was able to fit under that gate. Toy cars, bouncy balls, stuffed animals, spoons...there's no telling what we might find pushed through that 4" gap.
I love all the little eccentricities that make Topher who he is. It's funny how some people are immediately bonded to their babies. I loved Topher right away, of course I did. But not the way I love him now. This morning he reached for the Triscuit box, unhooked the little cardboard tab, jammed his arm in up to his elbow, and produced a cracker for himself. I just stared at him, at this little baby morphing into someone more independent, and I was just amazed. He's amazing. From his tuft of curls on the back of his head to his sea-blue eyes to his dimpled knuckles...I still can't believe that he's the same little person that used to roll around in my belly. How did we ever create something so perfect? How did we possibly do that? I don't say it enough, even if it is my one central thought...he's the best thing we have ever done, will ever do. We're so lucky to have him.
Even if it means my chapstick, keys, wallet, and library book are scattered down the stairs.