Daddy Fix It

OK, I'm going to preface this with a little journey into the past.

Christmas 1980. We're all at my Aunt & Uncle's home for Christmas. My cousin Rachel - who, might I add, I practically worshipped as a child - got a nice, new, BEE-YOO-TI-FUL Barbie dollhouse for Christmas. I'm two, so what do I do? Stick my head in it. Through the front door. Guess I needed a better look.

I don't know if they buttered my head or just turned it the right way, but somehow both the dollhouse and I managed to get out of that without any permanent damage.

Why this trip into the past, you're wondering?

Saturday, while I was away at work, Jack managed to climb into Tucker's crib - a big no-no, and he knows it. While up there, he pokes his leg out through the slats, and he's stuck. Screaming bloody murder, from what I was told.

A didn't have a saw, so he just had to get a hammer and beat the crib until it busted to free Jack's leg. He's unscathed. Unfortunately the crib, although glued, has a nice, long crack in it. We're hoping it holds until Tucker's ready for the toddler bed. It seems secure.

So what lesson doesJack learn from this experience? Well, first A told me that he tried to climb in the crib AGAIN. Then:

Jack sticking his leg through the (wider) slats on our glider...
Heather, my sister-in-law (paraphrased): Jack, what if your leg gets stuck again?
Jack: Daddy fix it.