rock climber.

P is a little monkey these days. I'll turn my back for two seconds and the next thing I know he's standing on the couch. Or on his firetruck. Or he's halfway up the stairs. He loves to climb over and under the dining room chairs. And he thinks his mama and daddy are playground equipment. His daddy is the monkey bars. His mama is a swing. Or a tunnel. Or maybe I'm the slide. It depends on the day. Either way, he climbs on everything, including us. He wears us out. But he also makes us laugh 'til we cry.

It was a good thing he found this rock the other day at the reservoir, because he was getting a little bored of the solid ground.




If he could speak in complete sentences, I'm sure he would of yelled, "I'm the king of the world!"


He was so proud of his climb. But he was scared to come down. At least he still needs his mama for some things.