My happy go lucky third born rarely walks.
He doesn’t often run, either.
He jumps. Everywhere he goes…he jumps.
This makes it really hard to catch a decent picture of him.
Unless, of course, his gymnastics instructor manages to get him to sit still for 2.3 minutes. She might even convince him to kiss his knee. If he’s sitting still long enough to listen, that is.
Mostly, though. This kid is a hopper. A bouncer. He bounces all day long. Bounces and smiles.
I like to call him Tigger.
Sometimes it exhausts me, all that bouncing. But then he grins and waves. And seriously…
How can you not love that face?