The Trusting Game

What a fun game the Trusting Game is . . . drive your parents crazy. That's the funnest part about it, I'm sure. Jack plays this game the best. The girls and I play it to a lesser degree of "trust."

It starts with one of the girls standing in front of me with her arms across her chest. She's standing straight and willfully starts to fall backwards toward my arms. If her knees buckle in order to steady herself, she doesn't trust me . This is just the game. I can get it so one of Terra or Madeline's butt touches the ground before I grab one by the arm pits and lift up fast so she doesn't touch the ground and crack her skull. "My turn!!!" invariably is the next words from the girl not playing the game.

Jack has taken the game to the next level. His trust is implicit. Jack and I started a version of this game in my bedroom. I lift him up over my head, exclaim, "Ready!" and then Jack falls flat on his back on the bed. He laughs, he loves it.

Another version of the game is for Jack while standing on the bed, inches his way to the wall. He then slams his fist on the wall three times, and falls straight back.

Jack has decided the game is so much fun, he likes to do it whenever he can. Mom carried him the other night, passed by the bed and Jack instantly shifts his center of gravity backwards toward the bed and begins the fall. Mom starts hyperventilating, "What if didn't catch him? He's so big??!" and becomes paranoid that he's going to do this all the time.

I tell Mom, "He'll tell you when he's ready to play the game. He always says 'Ready.'" Now, mind you, Jack's version of ready at 19 months comes out like "Dah." Nonetheless, that's all the warning you get with this boy.

BTW . . . I finished making the nightstand, now there is symmetry in my room.