The Roller Coaster Kid Strikes Again!

Way back before walkers were considered dangerous by the Powers that Be, I had one, like most toddlers of the time.  The house we lived in in New York had a bunch of stairs, and in order to protect my little brainpan, my parents installed a child safety gate at the top of the stairs.  Apparently it didn't take me long to figure out that gate, and in no time I had taken my "perfectly safe" walker down the flight of stairs.  My mother came running, as all good mothers do, only to find me on the landing, laughing my little diapered butt off.  I did this again and again until my walker broke, despite my parents' efforts to protect me.  As a result, when it came time for them to pick out a CB handle for me, my parents dubbed me the Roller Coaster Kid.

Ever since, I've enjoyed coasters, bumpy roads when sitting in the back of the bus, and other things of the same ilk.

Tonight,  I experienced a fraction of what my own mother must have felt when I first launched my walker.  I say only a fraction because I didn't actually witness the second generation of the 'Coaster Kid. 

I was downstairs, making my bed while Nora did dishes and the kids played.  Kate and DC were trapping each other in a blanket and Brian had decided to play with the ride-on toy affectionately known as the Barneymobile.  As I was making the bed, I heard the clatter of the toy going down the stairs, but since I didn't hear any squeals accompanying the noise, I didn't really think anything of it.  A few minutes later Nora came down to tell me that the noise was indeed the Barneymobile going down the stairs...  With Brian riding it the whole way down.  She had gone running at the first clatter and watched in horror as he experienced his first roller coaster.

As you can imagine, we've decided that the Barneymobile will stay downstairs from now on.  Though, if he's anything like me, that won't stop Brian for long.  He was the one who carried the Barneymobile up in the first place, after all.