At Stony Point

Last evening we zipped up to a different beach than we usually frequent.  It was calm, peaceful and lovely until the kidlets got there to disturb the peace.  While they were traipsing around in circles loudly pretending to be zombies (no, I have no idea why . . . and I was just too tired to ask at that point) Squirmy decided to explore the enormous layers of flat rock.  On his knees.  Walking is not in his near future plans.  He doesn’t even want to hold someone’s hand and walk for very long.  He’ll do it with a resigned air if you give him a lot of encouragement, but really, he’d just rather drop to he knees and crawl away.  Crawling is independence.  Crawling is fast.  And I have to hand it to him, crawling is stinking cute.  He has places to go, and crawling is efficient.