There was the time LD hopped into the bath (filled with water) on his own, fully clothed. Yeah, he was like 18 months old and we were NOT in the bathroom at the time. Nor did we hear him get in.
There was the time B yelled, "Oh my god, Zee!" and when I ran out to see what the commotion was about, there was Zee, sitting in his highchair – having CLIMBED IN ON HIS OWN. It's an Ikea highchair, white plastic with a plastic tray that slots in and would surely snap off if someone applied enough weight to it – say like, A BABY CLIMBING IN ON HIS OWN. Once again, we failed to notice our child performing this dangerous feat.
Bullet? Dodged. Again.
And then there's this;
Those used to be foam blocks. Now they're melted pieces of DODGED BULLET.
LD decided it would be a great idea to drop them inside his lamp. Which was on at the time.
Hot light-bulb + foam = fire hazard of awesome proportions.
Once again, we were only alerted to the fact of this when LD came out of his bedroom complaining of a sore (burnt) finger. The smell of burning foam? Yeah, totally missed that, too.
All I'm saying is, what the hell would happen if we were stoners?