We've had this toy a long time and my son managed to break the talking box inside, but I do remember Christmas Woody being very upset and whining that there was a reindeer in his boot. As a new mom, I had more important problems to solve, so I pretty much ignored his pleas. I was busy getting my son over colds, cuts, scrapes and other dangers he seemed determined to launch himself into. This kid was a climber -- early on.
There was no reindeer in HIS boot, but often as not there was an infection in his ear or or a lost blankie or there was the time when he first learned how to out get out of his crib. Now that he's a mountain climber and an instructor at the rock gym, showing others how to belay and climb, I finally get it. His first ascent should have been a hint where things were headed.
It was a big crib, mattress set at the lowest setting so most kids would not have been able to escape. We read all the books. But the books did us no good. He was tall even then and an adventurer.
He did it early in the morning when we were asleep in the other room, so I'll never know exactly what technique he employed, but we woke up to howling cries as he found him high up on top of his tall dresser next to the crib, where he'd grabbed a big jar of Vaseline and was spreading it all over the wall and himself. He was in tears, covered with petroleum jelly, looking very upset, as if someone had done this dirty work TO HIM and then exiled him from the comfort of his crib. You learn early as a parent not to laugh at your kids in peril -- especially self-inflicted scenarios of disaster like this one.
After we got him de-greased and settled back into his bed again, I remember looking at the dark streaks all over the wall, not having a clue how I'd get them off the rented walls. This was going to be a long haul, but a never a dull one.
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