Charlie gets to wear his cake.
July 18, 2009

Charlie learned how to crawl up the stairs last week. He darts for the flight of carpeted steps whenever he's free of pesky parental hands.

"What's luring him up?" my husband asked. I theorized it was just the pure joy of unaided mobility. He can crawl faster up our stairs than he can across our hard wood floor.

But I was wrong.
It's the tub.

I've always intervened during Charlie's upward journey. Even if I shadowed him inches from behind, I have always swooped him up as soon as he crested the top stair. Today I let him go.

Miles was in the tub at the time, door closed. Charlie tried to knock but couldn't, instead used his hand as a paint brush and made swishy sounds on the wooden door. "Tum in!" called Miles, but then he reneged his welcome once Charlie bee-lined to the bubble bath. Charlie loves the bath. But Miles refuses tub-time company from incontinent siblings.

Charlie turns one in three days.