Climbing Frame

I have previously mentioned how he likes to clamber all over the sofa if given the tiniest fraction of a chance. He bounces, he wriggles and he tries to climb up on the arms, all of which end up in heart stopping moments. I have only once left him on his own on the sofa, I thought he was safely absorbed in watching a particularly dramatic episode of Chuggington.
I popped into the kitchen to get a cup of tea and came back to find him practising for Olympics by using the sofa as a sort of cross between balance bars and a vaulting horse. Needless to say I quickly returned him to a safer altitude (ground level) but he really wasn't happy.
Whilst I type these entries I am sat on a rather nice, hand crafted sit-kneel chair. It's good for the posture and was surprisingly comfortable when I was in the latter stages of pregnancy. Joseph has seen me sitting on it and I think he is trying to emulate, but with only being about a quarter of my height it's not as successful as he'd like. He ends up sitting on the support in the middle, back to front in the chair and bashing away at the seat section. He's tried a variety of different ways to move about on it and even dismount but the vast majority of the time he ends up getting quite stuck.
Feet and legs get in places where he doesn't want and he finds himself having to use his arms to support his weight as his bottom slips sideways and his feet are out of action, tangled up in the general workings of the chair.
When I've managed to quell my laughter, I go and rescue him. Oh, if only he'd learn his lesson, but he never does. It's usually only a matter of minutes before he's back and having another go.
If I'm sat on the chair then he wants to sit at my lap. Sometimes this is all right, if I'm just surfing the web or I'm streaming a video. If I'm trying to actually do anything productive then it's a nightmare. He likes anything with buttons, you see, and a computer keyboard is just too much temptation for the little fellow. I've been trying to write this blog before and suddenly finding that everything is in capitals or he's managed to change a setting somewhere and it's all gone horribly wrong.

In other news, we're starting a war of kindness on The Cat. Joseph has finally worked out that he can't eat the cat treats, but he can give them to The Cat. He sits, a small dentabit clutched in his chubby fingers, arm outstretched. The Cat sits and stares back at him, really wanting to just ignore him the way she always has, but instinct telling her that she really wants the treat. She always takes the treat in the end, but the trick is persuading Joseph to let go.