I'm excited about things. The dimension, and perspective is very different then. Need to get to places faster.
I never crawl. I'm the butt-slider baby. You know, babies that slide their butts to get to places? Yeah, the rare kind. Anyone has fetishes for knees? I have a nice pair. Ass lovers, sorry. They are not perky. Look elsewhere.
When I started to walk, it's a shocker.
I was playing with my toys at the living. There's something in me that tell me to get up. So, I pushed my toys aside. Stood up. And balanced myself. I made my first step. Second. Third. Pacing faster after each into the kitchen. Clumsily, but excited.
Can't wait to tell Mother.
"(While pulling her shirt) Mummy! Mummy! I can walk!"
I was not taller than the kitchen top. Mother almost screamed her lungs out. For the millionth times, Mother had tried to make me stand. All I do was just dropped down. And slides away. Mother said I'm afraid, at times, lazy.
I never stop ever since. That evening, I started to explore the house. Going around every corners. Every rooms. Every toilets. Simply a warm up session before the "actual" explorations. As if I already had plans what to do the next day.
Guess you know how Father reacts when he's back.
I was barely thirteen months old.