No no no no no, here, play with this boring thing.

I now have an 8 month old/almost 9 month old. She can crawl and just this morning she was standing up, holding my hands, and she let go and stood on her own for a few seconds. I was happy for her but also felt a little jealous of people who’s kids don’t walk until 14 months.

That constantly used expression, “they’re into everything” is certainly based off of fact. And it isn’t good enough to play with something like an age appropriate toy – those are for BABIES. Babies don’t think they’re babies. It’s very tricky.

So we’re at the stage where she crawls around, sees something she’s interested in (wires, dogs, knives, broken glass, smallpox vials – we still need to baby proof our house), goes for it, and then we use our evil ability to walk faster than she can crawl and move the thing she wants. It’s super fun.

Today, when I was moving a box of old CDs from out of her reach, I had a pang of empathy. I imagined what it would be like if every time I reached for my smart phone, a big giant took it away before I could get it, AND THEN STARTED USING IT HIMSELF THE BASTARD. Or if every time, I, a short person, was on my tiptoes trying to pull something off a high kitchen shelf, that same giant comes up behind me and then moves it even higher. What a douchebag. Then, every time this giant denied me the pleasure of learning about something exciting, he spoke to me in a language I don’t understand but in a tone I could tell is pretty condescending. That would suuuuuuuuck.

And the beauty of all of this is, even as we slowly baby proof – moving things as needed, installing safety devices – it still will never spare us from constantly having to be party pooping assholes because one of the super powers babies possess is finding the most dangerous thing or activity in any given environment. There will always be a new dead bug or a fresh dust bunny to find and taste.

I’ve even found myself grabbing a spatula, and literally saying to myself, “This is really important to me and is not for babies. I’m going to put it right here on the floor for safe keeping.” As if that will somehow replace the amazing excitement that is wires – there’s a SURPRISE at the end of them. You just can’t top that.

So as I enter into the new phase of parenthood – Evil Fun Destroyer, I have to remember, as I grit my teeth and my eyes water while my daughter scrapes a cookie cutter against the tile kitchen floor, making a sound that I can only assume is the soundtrack to hell, to allow her the little joys that won’t cause serious injury (save for my eardrums).

And, for real, y’all, if we are taken over by a race of giants we are screwed.