well, it was bound to happen sooner or later- henry is officially crawling. our cat, hugo, now thinks he is a giant, living cat toy (so THAT is what he's for-chasing, pouncing, and stalking after!); and i now have a use for all of that cotton batting i intended to make plushies with- i'm gonna pad the walls so it doesn't hurt too badly when i bang my head against the wall. why? you ask: this whole crawling brings a whole new element to this job which- well, makes me want to bang my head against the wall! did we leave the safety training manual at the hospital when we brought him home? horrible scenarios run amok in my head...electrocution. toppled furniture crushing bones. entanglement. choking on dust bunnies that live in the corners. poking his eye out on the corner of the coffee table. whichever disease might be caused by putting the dog's toys in his mouth (did i mention our dog still eats her own poop from time to time?). i can just see henry now, crawling out the door and down our driveway towards granby street. yikes. gone are the days when i can just sit him down on his little carpet with his toys and have a moment to myself for important things... like breathing. yep, that's a picture of him above with a) a cord in his hand and b)trying to escape. notice how he is gazing at the power outlet there?
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