the traverse

I’m not sure it had registered that there was a silent peace in the house. i do know I was cooking dinner in the kitchen when your big brother runs in and announces:
“Darwin is trying to climb on the table!”

Thud.
Cry.
Modest amount of blood.
Swollen lip.

The timing was near comedic though. Seriously. You fell just as the words left your brother’s mouth, as if they were still hovering in some word bubble over his head and hadn’t quite gotten to me yet.

You were climbing from the high chair to the new dining room table, because… just summiting isn’t enough for you, my daredevil. You must also move laterally from one unsteady surface to another.

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