This ought to finally shut dad up

Welcome today’s guest blogger, Big G!

Yesterday – Sunday – after months of constant “encouragement” – more like pestering if you ask me – I finally put two and two together and took two steps. Then three … and almost four.

That’s right, cue the music! I’m ready for a step show!

(BTW – I have no idea what’s up with the audio. My theory is dad’s voice is in the dog whistle range as he goes all teenybopper-seeing-justin-timberlake on me)

I admit upfront I’m more Otis from Andy than Michael from Billie, but give me time. I’ll be mastering the dribble drive offense before pre-K. And you think dad was hyper-excited yesterday!

Speaking of which, he has been a bigger pain than two weeks of diaper rash. For months I’ve had to deal with the whole “Gabby was walking at 10 months” … “Gabby was almost running at 11 months” … “Gabby was doing cartwheels at 12 months” …. blah blah blah. It was enough to drive me to drink! (Skim milk, of course).

The final claw was Friday. Dad spoke to some friend of his who has a little girl three days older than me. She took her first steps that day. Once he hung up, it was on! I had better be bipedal in three days cause if a girl could do it, then so could I! (And yes, my dad is the type to use words like “bipedal” as casually as some people say “hello”)

Geez, what am I? An Indy metaphor? You threatin’ me with becoming the next Helio Castroneves!?! Well, if he wanted steps in three days, then by bully I was gonna give him steps in three days!

Not to say it wasn’t fun! And soooooo much easier on the knees. But did he have to go all Bobby Riggs on me?

You just wait until I find some balance and learn how to run. Dad is getting some milk in his sock drawer – post consumption! You just wait!


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