The morning sun poured through the wooden windows, illuminating the small, chaotic house.
Kiaan, now just over one year old, had developed an almost unstoppable curiosity. Today, he decided that everything within reach was a potential adventure. Cups, cloths, toys, and even the edge of the table—nothing was safe.
Mi‑un chased him across the floor, holding a half‑filled cup of water in one hand and wiping crumbs from the table with the other.
"Kiaan! No! Don't climb the chair!" she shouted, lunging forward just as he managed to pull himself up. He wobbled dangerously but giggled at her panic.
She gasped, her heart skipping a beat. "Stop laughing! You're going to fall!"
But of course, Kiaan didn't listen. He toddled over to the small shelf and grabbed a bright, shiny object—Mi‑un's old watch.
"Nooooo! That's not a toy!" she cried, diving toward him just in time to prevent him from throwing it on the floor.
The baby squealed with delight, completely oblivious to the chaos he had created.
---
Later, Mi‑un decided to let him play outside in the small yard. She thought it would be safer. She was wrong.
Kiaan immediately spotted a tiny hill of dirt, wobbling toward it with determination. Mi‑un ran after him, heart in her throat.
"Don't fall! Don't fall!" she yelled, arms outstretched. But Kiaan, as if testing the laws of gravity, tripped over a small rock and landed on his knees.
Mi‑un froze for half a second, then rushed to scoop him up. He looked up at her and laughed, totally unhurt and completely proud of himself.
"You little… you're impossible!" she said, laughing nervously and hugging him tightly.
---
By midday, the baby had discovered the kitchen. Pots, spoons, and a bag of rice were suddenly part of his new playground. Mi‑un tried to stop him, but every time she lifted him away, he wiggled back, laughing at her desperation.
She sighed, brushing flour from her hair. "One day, you're going to give me a heart attack," she muttered, watching him bang a wooden spoon on the floor with glee.
Neighbors passing by stopped and laughed quietly. "He's fearless," one whispered. "And she's… definitely brave."
Mi‑un gave a shaky smile. Brave? Maybe. Exhausted? Absolutely.
---
That evening, after a long day of chasing, picking up, and scolding, Mi‑un finally managed to sit down. Kiaan, tired from all the adventures, crawled into her lap and fell asleep, a small smile on his face.
Mi‑un looked at him and whispered, "You tiny troublemaker… I don't know if I can survive a day without fainting."
She pressed a kiss to his forehead. Despite the chaos, the mess, and the constant fear of him getting hurt, she couldn't help but laugh. His little energy, his curiosity, and even his reckless adventures had brought a liveliness back into her life that she hadn't realized she had been missing.
"Alright," she murmured, brushing crumbs from her clothes, "tomorrow… maybe we try calm play. Or maybe not. Who am I kidding?"
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, carrying faint laugh
ter and the promise of another chaotic, joyful day.