Pitter-patter

A smile grows on my face at the sound of it. Tiny feet padding across the kitchen floor. It stops. It starts, again followed by a sharp squeal of excitement (or frustration, depending on the mood of the moment). Ninja #2 has begun his reign of terror and he’s so proud of himself.

It’s hard to not to share in his pride, since he is my Ninja. It’s also hard not to laugh when he guides his walker into walls.

Da heck is dat? he wonders, staring at the white mass in front of him.

A few angry baby babbles eschew from his petulant Ninja mouth and he pushes on. Oh, the world is already so annoying.

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