(Backlog of firsts)

On some day recently, he discovered:

Feet are ticklish.  Apparently, this is not just laughter-inducing for whatever reflexive reason we laugh when tickled — he seems to find it genuinely funny that his feet produce that sensation.

He can get himself, on his own steam, from one floor of the house to another.  The first time he tried it, he paused at the landing half-way up, turned to look up at the top of the stairs, and grinned with a sudden realization:  “I’m going to *do* this!”  When he made it to the top, he sat down for a few seconds in what looked like amazement, then laughed hilariously and scampered away.  (The howling that ensued when I had to pick him up and carry him downstairs for bed sounded like heart-break!)

The concept of intentionality.  At his cousins’ house in Omaha, I tossed an inflated balloon in his direction as he sat with his back to me.  As the balloon bounced off his head, he immediately turned to look — not at the balloon, but at the direction the balloon came from.  He looked back and forth suspiciously between his aunt and me, but it was clear he knew one of us had thrown it!  (When I marveled at this to his aunt, she replied, “Yes.  In contrast to his three-year-old cousin, who said that his ball disappeared because the fairies took it.  And when his father came up behind him and dropped it in his lap, he stared at it wide-eyed and said, “The fairies!!!”)

Light switches.

That little knob on the front of the washing machine that selects the setting.

The cupboards *above* the counter.

LIFE cereal.

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