We had been cooped in all day (my fault entirely) and we needed some air. Misty Moo was starting to get that look. The look that says, 'Hey you. Owner. You remember when we hooked up and you promised to walk me every day? Yeah, that.'
So the Wee One and I went for a walk.
Not that amazing.
He is big enough now not to need the pram for a dog walk.
Yes it takes longer. A 30 minute quick walk, turns into 45 minutes or longer.
But I have to stop to let Misty Moo do her sniffing thing, her 'No wait! That there smells amazzzzzing' thing, her 'I know I'm being strangled but I reeeeeally need to sniff that leaf over there' thing.
And the Wee One is growing up.
He runs ahead, excitedly laughing at his own brilliance and daring.
He occasionally looks back to see how far behind him I am, laughs at me, and steams on ahead again. In my mind I can see him tripping over, face planting on the path, gravel grazes on the knees. He will fall, he does fall, but he is tough and moments later is running again.
And yet, when I call him, and he has run out of puff, his warm little hand seeks out my own, secure and safe, happy to be close. He looks up at me, still smiling.
So if we have time, and he has the energy, we are walking, me and my little man.