And this is a Monday. Good things never happen on Mondays. Look at the Dow Jones Industrial Average of late. Mondays suck.
So, riding the wave, I brushed up a screwball comedy story for which I sold first worldwide electronic rights years ago, and sent it out. And while I was doing this, my husband pointed to Junior.
He was standing! On his own! For three seconds! Before he fell! Down! On his tush!
And he was so pleased with himself, he's been playing Look-Ma-No-Hands all day. Meanwhile, his father's been walking around muttering, "He's going to be walking soon. Oh, God."
For my part, I refuse to focus on the doom everyone says will come upon us when he's vertically mobile. After all, he already goes wherever he wants on his hands and knees. What possible difference can two feet make...?
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