I received an email today from my wife about an expedition that my youngest daughter went on this weekend. My wife had gone into our study with our older daughter, but, when realizing that Little A wasn't crawling along behind them, went in search of her. She was found, in all her glory as a fifteen month old baby, sitting atop our piano. Since she's getting more comfortable with standing and walking around tables while holding on, I guess she'd figure that learning how to climb would be more entertaining than learning to walk on her own. She'll get that soon too, I'm convinced, because of her method of getting up.
She went from the ground, to the piano bench, to the keys, and then to the very top of the piano. Up, up and away, my little angel climbs. Now, much like a cat, I have a feeling that once she got up there, coming down would have been disastrous. Like most things with little kids, things can be funny and cute when nobody ends up hurt. As a relatively new parent, who's yet to see one of his kids grow up so that the end results of parenthood can be determined, I still try to figure what all of these little accomplishments mean. For now, I'll just assume she'll scale the mountains of Mars one day.