Stand and Deliver

The other day I walked into the living room and couldn't find Paige. I was puzzled as I hadn't seen her leave the room. I finally saw the top of her fuzzy head peeking out as she had CLIMBED INTO MY OFFICE CHAIR. She was casually sitting there kicking her feet back and forth on top of the seat. She glanced up and smiled at me when I ran over after I got over the shock that she'd climbed in there all by herself. Poop, I thought to myself. The next day, I came in the room and found Paige sitting on the couch casually flipping through my "Maine" magazine. How did you get up there!? I thought to myself. I've finally managed to "catch" her doing it...she practically puts her foot up near her face and somehow manages to step up onto things. It's crazy. I haven't gotten a picture, because usually I'm busy having a heart attack or shitting my pants in fear she will fall on her head while I lunge toward her to make sure she doesn't fall. Because she loves to try standing up and takes a step to casually walk off the edges of things. She hasn't realized she needs to sit on her bum and lower herself down. I'm strictly enforcing the "no standing on the furniture" rule, but it's not without a now weakened heart and dirty pants. I just glanced over as I write this and she's sitting on the couch with her head resting on a pillow. She looks so content. I guess I will have to get used to the idea that she may get hurt, as I can't always be right by her side. Boo. Time to buy a pacemaker and some new undies. See y'all soon! (and I'm kidding about all the pooing and heart-attacking for those who don't get my jokes).