"Mommy doodit" E demands and looks at me expectantly. (That's "do it")
"Daddy doodit" E exclaims and his chin starts to quiver. He's moments from crying, or yelling or becoming immobile.
The Mav jogs 20 feet ahead, turns to face little E, drops into a crouched position and extends his arms outward.
E runs, with his wobbly little toddler gait, straight into his Daddy's arms. He's grinning widely and giggling a bit. The Mav scoops him up and swings him in the air and then sets him back on the ground.
"Daddy doodit" pleads the little tyrant and the cycles repeats.
This is E's preferred method for traveling by foot.
He has decided that he likes to be carried around most of the times these days; I think it's to conserve his energy for the destination (e.g., the park) rather than expend it on the trip. I guess mere walking has becomes mundane after all these many (10) months. Running though, is new and fun. As is telling us what he wants us to do.
Now, out for a walk in our quiet neighborhood or on the busy campus in front of aloof students and brilliant professors we run, we stoop, we swing and cheer.
As we catch our breath, we take comfort in the fact that one day we'll be the ones embarrassing him.
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