This past Saturday, sometime before noon, Kolette decided to go for a run. If you don’t already know, she’s working up to running in a local half-marathon on the 15th of May. (For more on the subject, you can check out her blog here.)
This meant Coleman and I were on our own. She left, I played with Cole in the living room for a few minutes, and went into my study to make some progress on a project I was working on—sure that Cole would stay playing in the living room for a while.
It wasn’t but a few minutes later that Coleman, never wanting to miss out on the action, followed me into my den.
It was “Game On” from the very moment he entered my office. He was everywhere. First, he tried to grab the papers I was working with. I moved my chair in front of that part of my desk to block his maneuver. No sooner were the papers back in order than Cole was trying to grab the keyboard.
When I effectively flanked his keyboard move, he shuffled to the end of the desk to make a second attempt at the papers. Things went on like this for a few minutes. Every time I was sure everything on the desk was out of Cole’s reach, I’d see him up on his tippy toes and working to make another snatch.
By this time, I was little surprised to look over and find him trying to pull the phone onto the floor. I sped over to thwart that effort when he made his final move.
He reached up and grabbed the joystick that controls my wheelchair, and with both hands, pulled the control in his direction.
Now usually, I turn the power off to avoid this very situation. But, because he had me moving back and forth in front of the desk, working to keep all my stuff from off the floor, the chair was on and in high gear.
As I saw him about to run himself over, I pushed his hands forward hoping to break his grip.
Unfortunately, I severely underestimated my boys grip—and unwilling to let go, my push forward hurled up both forward.
Coleman and I rammed into my desk sending it, and everything on top of it (i.e. My Mac, a desk lamp, the phone, pens, papers, books, etc.) crashing to the ground and into the wall.
When the cacophony ended, I looked down to make sure Coleman was safe. I don’t know exactly when he let go, but it was definitely in plenty of time. For, sitting on his little bum, he simply and innocently looked at the desk and then looked up at me with a quizzical look that seemed to say, “What’s next?”
About 5 minutes later, Kolette returned from her run to a home a little different than the one she left. My office was in shambles, I was in shock, and Cole wanted to play catch.
The good news is that everyone is fine. The desk and wall are on life support, but thanks to good neighbors like the Treasures, I think they’re gonna make it.
Never a dull moment………Never a dull moment.