She crawls! Not quickly, it’s true. She will gauge the distance with a critical air. Too far and she offers a sharp squawk to alert me to the situation. But otherwise she army crawls it, her right leg swinging out wide.
I’ve never seen a crawl quite like hers.
Carl asked me tonight if I ever imagined our baby would be so cute. Mais oui. She comes, does she not, from us. I knew she would be cute. But I had no idea the form her cuteness would take. I didn’t know about the double chin, the reddish hair, the curve of her eyes, the crooked butt crack, the little cave-woman grunts that are strangely eloquent and specific.
The best things—the real things—are always a surprise.