The Pseudonymous Family is moving to a new house this week. Although our current residence has served us well, it leaves little space for my wife and me to chase our little Ewoks around and has an air conditioner that was installed around the time Return of the Jedi was released. This does not bode well in the 115-degree Arizona summer, as it runs constantly and sh!tily and still does not sufficiently cool the house.
Accordingly, we’re very much looking forward to our new place’s additional square footage, reduced electricity bill, and gargantuan master bedroom closet organizer (a feature my wife literally dances about at its mere mention).
As we’ve been packing up the house, the Twins have been in rare form, no doubt thrown off by the disturbance in The Force due to their constantly-changing surroundings. While my daughter has fully integrated the word “No” into her vocabulary (Yeah. I’m in trouble.), my son has begun to test physical boundaries, exploring the limits of both furniture he’s allowed on and his own body. In fact, once we’d emptied the bookshelf in his bedroom the other day, we discovered a new talent of his, as illustrated by the following footage:
Fear not, O Loyal Reader, no toddlers were harmed in the making of this video, and yes, that is my lovely wife catching him to prevent such a tragedy (nice snag, babe).
Having witnessed our son’s death-defying stunt, there was only one thing to do. I turned to my wife and asked, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“We need to take down the shelves?”
“Oh. Well, I was going to say we should find him a Spider-Man suit, but that works, too.”
Yes, I realize I promised you Twinfamyland. More is coming, as soon as relocating the Twinfamy World Headquarters stops punching my writing time in the groin. I electronically pinky-swear.
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If not, beware of ninja toddlers lurking in your bookcase, just waiting the right moment to strike.