About a year ago, I bought my son a stool. I'm not quite sure what drugs I was taking at the time of purchasing the stool but I surely wasn't thinking clearly. There was no need in buying it, I think I just saw it and thought it was cute.
This stool has since been banished. Permanently.
The stool is the Babe's favorite way of getting anything and everything he wants that I've put up from him. He uses it to help him climb up on the counter to get anything he can't reach by just standing on the stool itself.
Now in my drug induced terrible purchasing moment, I didn't even buy a nice-plastic-oooops-this-broke-so-now-we-have-to-throw-it-away stool. I bought a sturdy-this-is-going-to-last-50-years-wooden stool. This also presents it's challenges. The stool has crushed many a toes and hands in it's short lived life. Sorry but it's me or stool.
He carries it from room to room in the house searching for contraband I've hidden from him. Well I'll teach him. I've hidden the stool now as contraband.
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