My tiny son is a machine: he runs excitedly even when he should be walking, and has taken to dancing and marching in place when standing still. He has boundless energy. In this picture he is chasing after his big sister S – Age 3.5.
I was remarking to my husband that when our daughter was his age, there is no chance we would have let her go like that, barefoot and in pajamas, down a puddle-laden sidewalk. We would have been two steps behind at best. I guess since the first survived we have relaxed a little, and are more inclined known to watch and laugh.
We did not, for instance, keep him out of the puddle: we were too busy making bets on how he would react – whether he would plow through or plop down for a splash. He froze, actually, like his feet were stuck in glue for a moment, and stared down at his wet toes in confusion.
He then toddled happily on.
My son would have made it to the other side of the neighborhood had I not eventually scooped him up.
Children are the best thing that ever happened to me, and by far the most intriguing little creatures. It is becoming pretty apparent though, that their daddy and I are going to have to start marathon training if we hope to keep up!
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The Mischief of Minions 