Safeguarding

This week I scored three baby gates from a woman I found on craigslist - two for our apartment and one to keep at the Khorey's (the doorway to their basement has no door, so a gate is crucial).  We have them in the bathroom doorway (one of my worst nightmares involves Olive crawling into Che and Wendell's litter box that we keep in the bathroom closet) and the entryway where we keep our shoes.  She has free reign of everywhere else.  Last night I realized that I needed to keep glass objects out of her reach, as well.  An empty baby food jar had made its way to the living room floor, serving as one of the many household item toys that have struck her fancy, but then I heard a clink gone bad: I looked up to see our goon wielding the little jar, its mouth jagged after being cracked against the exposed brick wall.  Horrified, I snatched the weapon and the remaining shards that littered the carpet.  I don't know where she learned that trick; while I can think of a few folks offhand who may resort to that kind of thing, Rob and I most certainly don't engage in that violent barroom sort of behavior.