Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Mate, said Robb. I don't know any other little kid who would fall that many times without crying.
We were keeping pace with Eric at the back of the pack on a walk with the families from Aratika and Galactic. I hadn't really noticed the show that Eric was putting on, because I was so used to this sort of thing from him. But what Robb said was true. Eric fell down, oh, mebbe 200 times in an hour of walking on a sandy, tussocky track. He didn't cry, he just stuck his bum up in the air the way that little kids do when they're getting up, and then he got back to it, making another ten or twenty steps before he fell again. And no matter what, he didn't want to be carried.
He might be the toughest little kid I know.
Hell, he might be the toughest person in our family, period.
Our youngest crew has been making his presence felt more and more in recent weeks. He's still not two, but it's like he's racing to keep from being left behind by the rest of us. He's talking a lot. And he seems to be toilet training himself - he lets us know when he wants to use the head, and raises hell when we're not quick about it.
He's still a very little kid, of course.
But he's not a baby anymore, and he has clearly established his place in the family.
It'll be a treat to see what sort of person he turns out to be.