Taking Peek-a-boo to the next level

Dan and I were outside the other day, finally taking down the Easy-Up that's been in our backyard since July. We'd corralled Abby in the family room with a complicated configuration of furniture while we tackled the task, and about fifteen minutes later we were back inside, discussing how to handle the tree full of bees we discovered outside our dining room window. (It's never good when the sound of their buzzing is so loud it sounds like someone's a/c unit working overtime.)

So I'm in the kitchen washing my hands when I hear Dan say, "Do you have Abby?"

"No, she's in the family room still."

"Um...no she's not."

Panic.

I'm racing around the ground floor, which takes all of 1.6 seconds since our place is just not that big, and nope, she's not in the family room, or under the dining room table, or in her fortress, which is the living room all fences off and chock-full of her toys. I'm about the check the utility room and garage when I hear, "Well hi there, sweetie!" I follow Dan's voice UPSTAIRS.

Yes, she traversed the entire staircase alone: 13 steps, including a rather large landing and a 90 degree corner. Images of her tumbling like a slinky splatter themselves all over my brain, and Dan looks like he's seen a ghost he's so pale from nerves.

Abby, on the other hand, looks like she just conquered Everest, the stinker. She's so proud of herself, you can just tell. We, on the other hand, are looking for asprin to head off the heart attacks we think we might be about to have.

But at least we know she knows how to climb stairs. For what that's worth.