First of all, please allow me to set the scene before baby tells you in her own words what it felt like to begin the process of walking:
Baby was standing up, to aid her balance she was resting one hand on the sofa and the other hand was mucking about with the Sky remote.
“Upon trying to figure out how to change the channel to Disney Junior my senses changed – something happened internally. I couldn’t figure it out; I carried on and started to turn my head around to scan the room. I instantly noticed a tiny, half eaten, but clearly edible piece of bread laying all alone on the floor. I became fixated; I wasn’t hungry but I wanted it all the same. I somehow twisted my body around to face away from the sofa (Daddy was probably on Facebook hence probably unaware of the rapidly developing situation). I focussed on the bread which was three, maybe four metres away. My left leg managed to lift itself up from the ground; quickly followed was the exact same movement with my right leg. I froze. My arms froze. My whole body just stood still. I didn’t know what to do next. I felt like I was going to fall down a cliff. I felt vulnerable. Daddy suddenly noticed my predicament.
There I was 13 months-old, standing un-aided at least 30 centre metres from the nearest point of safety. I began to wobble. I just wobbled. Wobbled uncontrollably. I managed to contain myself. Daddy looked at me in dis-belief: he had a large un-characteristic grin on his face; he was saying words like, “Go on, you can do it”. This confused me profusely because he usually told me off for seeking out food on the floor. Not this time. His over enthusiastic encouragement increased – pretty much egging me on to get the bread. “F**k it”. I remember thinking. “I’m gonna go get that bread”.
I continued to wobble without even telling my legs to do so but to my credit, I did manage to maintain a high level of balance. “Go on, you can do it”. Daddy continued to say. For the love of me, I could not figure out why daddy was saying this. He must’ve had another can of Redbull or something. “Chill the f**k out”. I remember thinking to myself. I was getting side-tracked and annoyed by daddy’s confusing behaviour so I told my brain to move my left and right legs as fast as possible – I needed to get to that bread urgently before daddy changed his mind. Both legs duly obliged. As a downside to both my legs moving quickly, they failed to take my balance into consideration. And so my legs gave way after two steps with both feet.
To disappoint me even further, daddy began cheering and going a little crazy. His behaviour really annoyed me. He clapped and continued with these stupid, annoying smiles and noises. I remember thinking, “What the hell are you so happy about? Your unruly behaviour has prevented me from getting my mits on that bread you idiot”. To top it all off and piss me off even further, daddy picked me up, kissed me and span me around like a lunatic. He could’ve dropped me, the twat.
He then put me down even further away from the bread. Livid. F*****g livid. I had a mountain to climb if I were to get my hands on that bread. I was dizzy from all that spinning and ridiculous dis-proportionate amount of celebrations and clapping. I was only doing what billions of other small humans have done in human history – walk.
I never did get to that bread. Still, atleast it has meant I have now discovered a whole new world – a world in which daddy will never be able to sit himself down again. Hahahahahaha”.