Laurel is stumbling (crawling pretty much being a thing of the past) through the kitchen. She notices a toy car underneath the kitchen table. It's Ian's, so of course she must have it. Step, step, wobble, balance, sway, and balance. Step, step, step, step, wobble, plop onto the butt, outstretching her arms so as to not fall backwards onto the tile floor. Close enough to the table, she decides to scoot on her bottom the rest of the distance. She clutches the car in her hands and cackles. I kid you not, the girl cackles with glee!
Of absolute necessity, Laurel decides to show her find to Ian. It is, after all, a little sister's responsibility to torment her older brother. She leans forward to prop herself onto her hands and knees, squats, and then slowly raises her body into a standing position. BANG! "Aaahhh, " and she quickly squats down, still clutching Ian's car.
There is only a couple seconds more of complaining before she's slowly raising her body upward again. BANG! "Aaahhh," she wails, squats down and looks upward in disbelief.
One hand still tightly wrapped around the prized car, the other on top of her head. She whimpers a few seconds more while looking upwards to figure out what happened. The third attempt begins. She keeps her eyes on the ominous table above her as she slowly stands up, and then BANG! "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
The wails continue to get louder until I finally come over and rescue her. Poor thing, she had no idea that a table could deliver such a blow. A table, that merely a few weeks ago, she could stand underneath without concern.