Walk like an Egyptian

Dear Mommy,

Please cease and desist with the tyranny that is preventing me from walking.

I realize you have things to do. Work, eating, sleeping. Occasionally, you like to shower. Perhaps even leave the house every now and then.

But those things are interfering with you holding my hands and walking around the living room. I realize that the 300th lap of a 10-foot radius in an hour might be a wee bit repetitive, but I can't get enough of it.

Please know that when you try to sit me down, I will go rigid and refuse to bend. This is what's known as "the avoidance technique." Get a clue, woman. I don't want to sit.

This crawling business can get me from Point 1 to Point B, sure. And I see the delight in your eyes when I crawl towards you from across the room. But it's just not getting the job done.

I want to walk like a drunken sailor (similar to cursing like a drunken sailor, but that's for a few years from now) and then practice walking like a drunken sailor at a faster pace -- somewhat like running, but really just fast walking.

I do appreciate you trying to mix it up a little and walk with me outside on the driveway. That's fun. So thanks for the extra effort. But can you please block off more time for this?

If you would be so kind as to remove the blocks and toys from my path, that would be juuuuuust super. I hate having to kick blocks out of the way and stepping on my rattle just slows me down. I have no problem with you stepping on these items, however, as you make a funny yelping noise as the block edge punctures the arch of your delicate foot.

Your back is aching from bending over? Suck it up. Rub some dirt in it. This is parenting.

So if you could clear your schedule for the next couple of days, we'll just get right at it.

Sincerely,
Jack

CC: Daddy


Isn't this fun?