I am a klutz and poor Leif has inherited it. You would think that being that I was a gymnast for many years, I might have some level of grace. Nope. Not an ounce. If it is choreographed and practiced, then fine, but otherwise I trip over the cracks in the sidewalk.
Apparently Leif was lucky enough to inherit this from me as shown by his little exhibit in daycare today.
AB called: "Yeah, Leif banged up his chin today."
NM: "He did, how did he do that?"
AB: "Well... Evidently he went to change his own diaper..."
NM interrupts: "He went to change his own diaper?"
AB: "Yeah, I guess. So anyways, he gets his shorts off, gets his diaper off, throws it away."
NM: "Well at least he threw it away."
AB continues: "He couldn't get his new diaper on and so he took it and went running across the room to get help with his shorts around his ankles and fell face first into the fridge."
NM: "Seriously?"
AB: "Apparently!"
NM: "Is he alright?"
AB: "Yeah, he's fine."
And thus the source of all kids paranoia about being pants'd and exposed to their friends... with a little klutziness thrown in on top.
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