We bought Henry a door bouncer. And this because although he glows under attention of any kind, his favourite is attention of the standing-up-and-looking-around kind. It’s amazingly cute watching him stand tall and proud and beaming on his little chicken legs, head bobbing furiously and baby drool flicking all and sundry. But it’s also tough on the old biceps eventually, so we decided that a door bouncer would do the work for us.
We asked the eBay Fairy, and she said we could have one for £2.71. Two! Pounds! And Seventy-One Pence! And then postage, but never mind that.
Did you know we have a balcony in our house? Not really a balcony, a what-do-you-call-it. Mezzanine. Our bedroom overlooks the living room. Rubbish for keeping any heat in (I’m typing this in bed again, how clever of you to guess) but very handy for holding normal-volume conversations anywhere in the house and asking Timothy to throw up my hairbrush when I’ve left it downstairs. We always assumed that once we had a baby we’d set up some sort of bungee cord system whereby messages or small items could be placed in the nappy, and the baby would bounce between floors like a ping pong ball. We haven’t worked out the finer details of that yet. But we strung the door bouncer from the balcony, and it worked really well: he’s dangling in the middle of the living room, with acres of space either side to kick around.
He hasn’t quite worked out how to bounce on purpose. Every now and again he stamps by accident and sends himself spiraling in the other direction, his face a picture of surprise. I am sorry to report also that when we first put him in it, I stood him on my Arden Shakespeare so he could touch the ground and he threw up all over it. I have accepted that 95% of the items in our house will be sicked on at some point, but the Arden Shakespeare was a step too far. Thankfully Timothy worked out how to adjust the cord so Henry could touch the ground himself, otherwise I’d have packed away the bouncer until he had longer legs. My Arden Shakespeare. Argh.
Anyway. He loves it. And we love it, because he looks hilariously like a tiny Pinocchio dancing his little wooden heart out on the laminate flooring. Oh, and we also discovered that if we shorten the cord, it makes a fabulous indoor swing. Provided you don’t miscalculate the angle and biff your child into the sofa instead. (He seemed to really enjoy this too, oddly.)