"Daddy, I tan't det on dis fiss! Hep me!"
In accordance with my goal that Rowan one day gets a job and moves out of my house, I refused to help him get on the fish.
"But I tan't do it!"
One father/son Nike pep-talk later, Rowan hefted himself on the fish. I didn't realize at the time that mastering the fish would set the string of climbing confidence dominoes tumbling into the abyss. Remember last August when Lyla, age three-and-a-half, climbed this?
It's 10 feet off the ground. I nearly had a heart attack. Well today her brother, age two-and-a-half...
That's why you don't help your kid get on the fish.
Nice bad boy skull socks.
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