“Mum! Mum’s home!” Mister screams and runs toward me. I bend down, looking forward to the infrequent “welcome home” hug he’s about to crash into me with. Instead, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen.
“Mum can get it.”
“Get what, Buddy?” I ask.
“Would you like a marshmallow?” he more states than asks.
I take out a marshmallow and resist the temptation to throw it at him.
I sigh as he runs away, reminding myself that this time last year he was just taking his first steps and using screeches and one word commands to communicate. He’s learning. In baby steps.
Where are your baby steps taking you? What do you see as the end to your writing journey?