Baby Trap

This

Plus this.

It was a pretty normal Saturday evening at the Tolley’s.

Parents and children seated on every available chair.

Spill-over . . . spilling over.

Onto cushions on the floor.

An old musical on the screen.

Several family members were singing along with the lyrics. “When I was a lad, I was gloomy and sad as I was since the day I was born . . .”

You get it.

One member of the company, 15 month-old Granddaughter #12 (hereinafter creatively known as GD12) wasn’t watching. Rather, she had discovered the box of baby toys conveniently placed in the very likely case of boredom. And/or  . . . yeah. Boredom.

One of the toys, a ball inside a ball, was especially intriguing. She carried it around for several minutes—a great period in babytime.

Sometime during these moments of discovery, GD12 realized that she could put her little hand inside the ball.

And grasp the second ball trapped there.

But there, her play came to an abrupt halt. She couldn’t extract that dratted second ball.

She could reach in a grasp it, but the holes in the outer ball weren’t large enough to allow for baby hand and grasped ball to emerge.

Stumped, she brought the whole thing--hand, balls and all.

To me.

Her dilemma was immediately apparent. How to get that second—and infinitely desirable—second ball . . . out.

Her little hand was still firmly grasping it. And no way was she going to let it go.

“Oh, look!” I said. “We caught a little monkey!”

Modern monkey/baby traps.

Colourful and effective.

With big sister.
Getting her hands into other mischief...