A few moments in, I heard a crash from upstairs. I ran to the stairs, to find Tucker standing at the top of the landing, crying and bleeding. I suspect he had tried to climb out of the crib, but he could not do it as succesfully and gracefully as the one at my aunt's house, so he came crashing to ground instead.
You'd think I would have learned by now, after four escapes and a broken arm: this child can no longer be contained in such a way.
Well, that final trick earned him a ticket straight to the Big Boy Bed. He moved into my parents' guest room, which is where he shall henceforth sleep from this day forward.
If he ever sleeps at your house for any reason, please don't put him in the crib.
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