Alex is going to have some serious chair phobia. Seriously, he should always be held. At least when there are chairs anywhere near by.
Yesterday afternoon, Sarah and I were waiting in line, after some shopping, at Panera. A young cashier was rudely repeating a question to an elderly woman who was hard of hearing when Sarah’s phone rang. It was Zach, trying to get ahold of me, the person who has a cell phone that she never seems to be able to hear ring.
“I hurt Alex.”
I thought maybe he pinched him, or poked him in the eye (both of which I have done accidentally).
“I hit him with a chair.”
“You hit him with a chair?” I suppress a small giggle, knowing that it wasn’t on purpose and that he was probably fine, considering Zach wasn’t saying anything about running to the hospital.
“Not on purpose.”
Zach has successfully taught Alex that the vacuum is not scary, so now Alex walks around following the vacuum and placing things on top of it. He no longer cries when it runs, waiting for it to turn off in order to run over to it and knock it over. Instead, he stalks it. Wherever the vacuum is, Alex is. He walks behind it, runs in front of it, touches it and places his toys on top of it.
Apparently he snuck up behind Zach at one point, and when Zach went to pull a dining room chair out from under the table he hit Alex with the chair.
He has a huge bruise on the bridge of his nose that extends to the inside corner of his left eye.
Poor kid. After his last encounter with a chair and now being smacked in the face with one, he is totally going to have a chair phobia.