He's a climber.

Oh Mason. Mason, Mason, Mason.

He loves to climb.

Instead of going around obstacles, he instead prefers to climb over things that are in his path. Including pillows, books, me, Jasper.

Twice while unloading dishes, Mason has climbed onto the open dishwasher door in order to fling the spoons and other flatware.

And a new feat. Last week, he was sitting his highchair while I was making dinner. Flinging toys and food off of his tray, as per usual. I look over at him, expecting to see him happily stuffing bananas into his mouth, and, instead, have a momentary heart attack. He is perched -a very fitting word choice- with his hands and one knee on our kitchen table and his other foot still in his highchair.

There was even a small gap between the highchair and the table. Which his little 8 month old body was spanning.

He was literally, five seconds from falling to his demise. Or at least to his bruising and major head bumping.

How did he do that? No idea.

That kid is going to keep me on my toes.

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