As of last week (A Tuesday, for those making notes) my highly advanced son, pictured here at his current intellectual peak-
-recently reached a level we thought he was going to skip. My son, ladies and gentlemen, has mastered the art of crawling. Well, by ‘Mastered’ I mean ‘started to do’ and by ‘crawling’ I mean ‘some sort of movement that involves heavy fist thumping combined with draging and pulling forward of the legs’
Problem is, it takes an extreme amount of effort on his part – so much so, that when he was first doing it, he’d grizzle and whinge during the whole process. It was, in a way, beautifully horrific. On one hand, my wonderful son was now mobile. On the other hand ‘Oh my christ he’s making some sort of high pitched whine while dragging his body towards me’ for a while, it felt a bit like I was in Raccoon City.
Still, it’s a milestone – a beautiful, horrifying, loud milestone that I will never forget until he starts walking.