The Boy and the walking...that wasn't

The Boy is 13...almost 14 months old. For those of you who speak rational English that means he's almost 2 months over a YEAR. People keep asking me...

Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?
Is he walking yet?

And I smile or chuckle and say, "He's close but not quite and I'm in no hurry." And that's the truth. I'm in no hurry to have him running laps around me. And yet. He's really HEAVY and it would be really nice if he could walk and hold my hand instead of me having to schlep him around.

As luck would have it, he has sort of maybe taken some independent steps. This past weekend when we were in Savannah, he took 2 or maybe 3 steps on his own before he realized that Chris and I are abject TRAITORS and we had removed the safety of our fingers from his vice grip.

He immediately went back to crawling.

When we would stand him up and ask him to walk between us, he would look at us, smile, stand there for a moment after we had let go and then promptly drop to all fours and crawl away.

He's clever, this one is.

Anyway, for anyone who is longing to ask either of us this question, the answer is...He's walking and then he's not walking and then he's walking and then he's not walking and if you ask me again, I'm going to chuck a sippy cup at your head.