Here I was, enjoying Whitney (Thursday nights on NBC! HILARIOUS!) and joking around with my husband as I looked at homemade gift ideas.
We hear "Daddy?" out of Dante's room, and I thought it sounded pretty close to the door. My exact words? "Nah, if he can get out, he'd open the door."
LO AND BEHOLD, the door opened seconds after I shut my fat mouth. And my Hubby and I just laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. I nearly stopped breathing as Dante grabbed my face and said "Dante get down, Mama!"
We take him back to the scene of the crime, and he did exactly what I thought he'd do. He stuck his foot through the slats and onto the top of the short filing cabinet that was next to his crib.
I got him out before he could do it again, and gave him a banana to eat as my dear husband moved said filing cabinet. Dante then proceeded to dance around the living room munching on his banana.
It took a bit of finagling and some reminding that we're seeing Santa in the morning to get him to calm down and go to bed. And now I'm worried that he's going to try again without the relative safety of the filing cabinet and land on his head. How am I supposed to sleep again?!?!