A metaphor, of sorts

Sam's dresser is in my office, which used to be "the nursery" when Jonah was a baby, and which still contains the baby dresser. I start work most days before the boys get dressed, and this can lead to odd moments where I'm on the phone and my wife tries to sneak in to get clothes.

The big variable is whether or not Sam is out in the hallway. If he's there, my heart stops, because he may yell out "Daddy!" before I can hit the mute button on the phone. This would blow my cover and reveal me to be a man-who-works-at-home.

I was not on the phone this morning, though, when my wife came in to get Sam's clothes for the day. He was with her, and so I got down on the floor to play with him. We tussled a bit and then my wife handed me his shorts and t-shirt.

And I noticed something interesting about toddlers (mine at least, I don't know about yours). Sam was standing up when I asked if he wanted to help get his shorts on. He said "Yuh," and then simply put out his hands and lifted one leg.

Toddlers cannot stand on one leg, hence the name "toddler," as opposed to "steadyer."

I was close by and he didn't go very far until his hands rested on my shoulders and we could begin the 5-minute enterprise of getting each leg into its properly assigned short-area.

But he didn't even look before he put out his arms and lifted his leg. He just assumed that I would be there, to steady or to catch him.

Hm.