While Paul was contentedly watching Elmo yesterday morning, I went upstairs to change Mark and put him down for a nap. After about 10 minutes upstairs, I heard "ow... mama?" Came down to find this:
The counter top was clear when I went upstairs. He had gotten out a cutting board, tomato, and knife, pulled over a chair, and started cutting up a tomato for snack.
He cut his thumb. :-( Not bad, but it did bleed quite a bit. Here he is, showing off his battle scar.
I had already moved the knives once to be less accessible. They are now on top of the top cabinets. Quite a pain when I want to cut something, but such is life with an independent 2-year-old who thinks he's 12.
Later in the day, Paul decided a little krispie treat was in order. No need for a sharp knife this time, though. He just got a little one out of the utensil drawer.
Oi mama but you've got your hands full! Just think, in 2 weeks he can hold a master class on how to be naughty with rapt attention from Christopher, Patrick, and Aaron. Then Patrick can show them how to go pantry diving for nilla wafers every 10 minutes and bang on the TV, because that makes it magically turn on or something. Hang in there!
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