Working the Room

So distracted was I by Kate taking her toy toaster, which lights up when you push the button down, pointing one end toward the kitchen wall and declaring, authoritatively, "Let the cartoon...BEGIN!" (She watches an unhealthy amount of Pee Wee's Playhouse) that I almost didn't notice Sarah.

She'd been scooting around all over the kitchen floor. For awhile, she'd just paused in front of the wine refrigerator and was either admiring her reflection in the door, or longing for some vino. Maybe both. But now, while no one was looking, she'd discovered that she could take the little bench from Kate's mini picnic table (attached to the outside portion of her kitchen, yeah, she's cool like that), hoisted herself up on it and was using it as a walker to glide across the floor.

She still seems to prefer swimming across the floor as her most rapid means of transportation. I've been thinking of making her a onsie built entirely of Swiffer pads. People always joke about putting something of that ilk on their crawlers but I think that's inherently flawed since you'd be coating the child's only means of friction with something slick. But Sarah uses her belly for support and pushes off the floor with her hands and feet to send herself sailing a couple feet at a time. That's floor-cleaning gold right there.

...There she goes..."I'm outta here, mommy! This kitchen is played."