Ground Patrole

You know, babies are supposedly too small to make much sense out of anything. They don't understand the concept of "No", the concept of sharing, the idea that you leaving the room doesn't mean you are gone forever.
So why is it that they understand perfectly that they should wait until you are not looking to touch or eat something they know you would not approve of?
How do they know which things you will be ok with and which things you will take away?

My daughter was sitting in my aunt's lap and she gave her a leaf to play with. She thoughtfully turned it over and over in her hand, pulling at the stem and flesh. My aunt yawned and turned to look at something. When she turned back, my daughter had the leaf in her mouth.

She plays quietly with her toys while I am sitting with her but as soon as I decide to dust the chest of drawers, she's suddenly into the stacks of toilet paper in the closet.

And this is scary! It's not that I mind pulling her away from the closet or trash can, it's that, even though she knows which things I probably won't let her have, she doesn't know which ones are really dangerous, like outlets and clorox.

We all know that babies put all kinds of strange things in their mouths and that they get into EVERYTHING, but we don't (at least I don't) always realize what that really consists of.
We know without having to think about it that chicken poop and ashes are yucky and we wouldn't dream of eating them but babies will!
My husband, visiting his grandparent's ranch while still crawling, was found under the chicken coop eating...you guessed it.
And a couple I know left an ashtray in a low place and before they knew it their baby daughter was sitting in front of it stuffing cigarette butts in her mouth.
(Shall we even get in to smoking in the house with a baby to begin with? That's another blog for another day).
So, it's always the stuff that for us is common knowledge.
We know to keep safety pins and knives out of reach but sometimes forget about our sandals in the front hallway or the dustpan in the laundry room.
And it's always when I'm not looking.
Being a parent is like being a watch man without a changing of the guard.