Sure, I have made a few adjustments already, as any parent would. The pots and pans rack is no longer above the crib, loose nails are no longer stored with the teething rings, and the hornets nest has been finally removed from his room. But there's always more work to be done, especially in an apartment that's been around for close to a century. Sometimes danger spots are hiding in plain sight. Take a look at this picture of an actual floor here:
I know: it's disgusting. If it were up to me, I'd choose a different tile... maybe something a bit more modern, or a pattern with classic cartoon characters. Upon closer examination of the floor, though, I have come to realize that it's not exactly kid-friendly, especially with it crumbling away in bite-sized pieces. The duct tape is there to help fix that problem, and to hide the gaping holes to the apartment below.
And then there's this. Look at this piece of trim in our living room:
Sure, it might seem innocent enough, but say you happen to be doing the twist or a Russian dance by the door and you accidentally hit it. Look what happens:
It's bad enough that the block falls out, exposing the apparent chunks of asbestos. Take a close look at that block - yes, that's right: there's a NAIL sticking out of it. A sharp nail pointing straight up from the floor, just waiting for a toddler to crawl on it. Our apartment hates us. I'm certain it's waging war because we had a child: "How DARE you bring someone in here who will desecrate my walls with a crayon? You want a fight? BRING IT ON. You're afraid of a little nail??? - Just wait 'til you see what I do to your toilet when you start potty training!"
So, I'll be busy in the coming weeks. I'll probably find a way to keep Kyle away from that poorly-tiled floor by closing a door to that room. As for the trim... well, I'll find some way to fix it. Until then, I figure this should keep Kyle away from it:
(Anyone needing an explanation can click here.)
Okay, I have to go... I'm off to find a way to get the sharks out of our bathtub.
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