Whatever you do, don't laugh

You know, one of the hard parts of parenting is putting on a stern face when you want to be giggling. For instance, Vivian has recently taken to pushing around the tall laundry basket for fun. Even better is filling it with things and then pushing it around. All well and good. But while sitting at the dining room table yesterday, we suddenly heard a tremendous prolonged slide and crash, as said laundry basket headed down the stairs and hit the cat, who jumped ten feet in the air, already running.

Coffee came out James’s nose.

“No, Vivian,” he choked, as I buried my head in my arms. “That’s bad. Don’t —” he was turning purple by this point “— don’t push it down the — ” clothes hangers, building blocks, and the phone, which had been in the laundry basket, were then hit by the falling cat, and slid down toward the landing. The cat scrambled up the stairs at approximately Mach 2. James put his head down next to mine and started pounding his forehead on the table.

“Cat?” said Vivian. “Where di’ i’ go?”