Usually these situations happen soon after a moment of surprise - like backing your parents' car into a pole you SWEAR wasn't there 10 minutes earlier (sorry mum) - and swiftly progress to muttering the sort of half sentences that start with questions, like "How the ... ?" and then trail off while your brain does a bit of cerebral lip wobbling.
I had such a moment over the weekend when I came into the lounge to witness the after effects of my son playing, a development which happened in a matter of a few hours. I went out for a run with a wriggly little piglet of a toddler and came home to a human wrecking ball.
So it is now official, he is a proper little boy. Every day is sound tracked by a lot of crash, some bang, mostly there's wallop and without fail, every last thing is done at 100 miles an hour. Also he appears to be the first human to actually harness the Power Of Stubborn into some kind of contraband tractor beam.
We put him to bed in pyjamas for the first time last night and it actually brought a lump to my throat to see how grown up he looked.
I love these photos taken yesterday on Keith's phone. Please don't adjust your sets, they are supposed to look like that.
As a friend put it perfectly this morning "his little pudgy legs are poised for ENGAGE ZOOOOM"
I think it's time to break out the cupboard locks ...
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