Red Light

The only way to learn your oven door has a lock on it is the hard way.  At our house, the hard way involved a toddler on a mission and my shins.

I think the kids realized that this week was going to be a full five days of day care for the first time in a couple of months.  With Mom and Dad back at work and it being way, way too early in the year to use up all my vacation time, they are back at day care full time and come home very, very tired.

When the toddler gets tired he gets focused.  His focus tonight was on making sure nothing could be trapped inside the oven.  Maybe they sang about four and twenty blackbirds in a pie at school and he wanted to make sure nothing so tragic happened at home.  Maybe he just wanted a more immediate heat source.  We may never know, but by golly did he want that door open tonight.

Thankfully, we weren’t actually making use of the oven or my shins would have been bruised and burned.  I was working next to oven, chopping stuff and readying it for a flash fry, and the wee one sneaked behind me, pulled the door down with all his might and took me out.  No human was injured, but there were onions and chickpeas lost in the fray.  When the door was locked, his focus did not wane.  He just hanged on the handle and rocked back and forth.  Zombie like really.  Thinking back on it now…it…it is…we’ll call it determination.

So tonight we entered  a world of red lights for the toddler.  The door will stay locked and the bright light on the range will be there as a reminder of the fact.  The toddler had a pretty good run of only encountering locked cabinets and the occasional “put this on a higher shelf” form of baby-proofing (though even those measures are way more than we ever had to do for his brother).  New phase though, trying to combat his combination of monstrous size and exorbitant energy with visual cues that he is not allowed in certain places or to do certain things.  Hopefully I’ll stop being hit in the legs with heavy metal objects, but only time will tell.

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