... a defibrillator.
The wee child's present to his mama in celebration of the birth of the Savior? Two heart attacks in one morning!
Scariness the first: I hear a clatter and then the dreaded wailing cry. He rode his little plastic car down three tile steps onto a hardwood floor. "Rode" is generous, since he pretty much flew over the brightly colored handlebars and landed sprawled and stuck with his car resting squarely atop his posterior.
Second terribleness: He can climb out of Grandma's pack-n-play in which he sleeps. He did it yesterday and we thought it was because he had grabbed the corner of a table and pulled himself out. But no. This morning, J heard some noises while Toby supposedly napped and came around the corner to see him standing outside the door of his room, at the top of the wood staircase.
Just when you think you've got the situation under control, they go and learn a new thing. No wonder the tree of knowledge was dangerous.