mama's nightmare

Our new house has a basement. It is an old house which means there is a narrow and steep staircase leading to the basement. The steps themselves are so small that an adult's foot doesn't fit on them without turning sideways but my feet happen to fit just perfectly. Mama's nightmare since we moved in has been that I might fall down the stairs one day, or worse be knocked down the stairs by Moses. So Dada put a gate at the top of the stairs to keep me from heading downstairs by myself and another one at the bottom of the stairs to keep me from climbing up by myself when we are all downstairs together. He also put a railing in so I would have something to hold onto.

I have gotten better and better at going up and down the stairs now that we have lived here a few months and mama has slacked off on accompanying me everytime I head up or down the stairs. The other day she had to run downstairs for something for just a second and I frantically ran after her because I wanted to go downstairs too. She didn't close the gate which meant that I could follow her even though she called to me that she was coming right back up. Then came the horrible sound of me falling down the stairs. Not just a couple of stairs, but almost all of the stairs. Later I pointed out to Dada that I had started falling on the third step. Mama ran around the corner just in time to see me land flat on my tummy at the bottom. She was afraid to pick me up in case I hurt my back so she let me lay there and cry a few seconds until I started moving on my own. Then she hugged me and cuddled me while I screamed because it was very scary, this falling down the stairs. She thoroughly inspected me for broken bones or swollen ankles. Thankfully the stairs are carpeted and I survived with nothing more than a rug burn on my forehead and cheek. And a new respect for the stairs, which I have been very careful on ever since.

Love, Elijah