Diaper Box Derby

I've taken the past couple of days to recoup from an emotional roller coaster ride. I feel relatively calm today and have a story to share with you.

As I mentioned before Justin was the oldest, followed by Brandon, then Maggie; all two and a half years apart.
One cold winter morning I was working in the kitchen listening to the kids play in the living room happy that they were entertaining each other with a very large diaper box.
Maggie was between 1-2, Brandon 3-4 and Justin 5-6.
I was at the kitchen sink which was situated a few steps from the stairway that led to the basement. 
Before I knew it the boys had Maggie in the diaper box, which looked remarkably like a soap box derby car. The next thing I remember the boys were at the top of the stairs ready to give Maggie a ride down the staircase. In a panic I ran, seemingly in slow motion, to the top of the stairs to stop them but it was too late. They had just given her the needed acceleration for her trip down the steps. 
The boys were laughing and Maggie was squealing with delight as she traveled down the stairs in her makeshift car.
There was just one problem; the sudden stop at the bottom. It was quite a jolt and Maggie's squeals of delight turned into tears of fright. The boys were suddenly silent.
The saving grace in this situation was the square of carpeting on which Maggie landed, cushioning her fall.

The diaper box held up remarkably well until I destroyed it after consoling Maggie and swatting the boys' hind ends with the infamous wooden spoon then sending them to their rooms. 

Looking back it was a little humorous but still frightening. 
I was so close to them but, darn, those little ones are fast!
Another crisis diverted and another memory under the belt.