Reid's grown dangerously close to walking. The video camera is constantly within arm's reach, which sadly increases ten-fold the chance that Reid will destroy it, making my stomach roil with potential expensive-item trauma.

He is a bold young man, and he will sometimes fix his gaze on something and take a few steps from his shaky perch at the couch before falling to the carpet or (more often) into the arms of an anxious first-time parent. He has a little scooter-looking thing he is supposed to use to learn the walking. He effortlessly glides across the floor, but the device's steering mechanism is dubious. So he wrecks into furniture near a parent and immediately reaches up, seeking not to be carried but to be "participatorily walked," in which a parent's hamstring and lower back is destroyed.

He exhibits no fear when he experiments with walking. He sees a target, or targets nothing in particular, and casts an arm in that direction, sets a steely green displaying four, six or even all eight of his teeth, and takes the leap of faith...

Our lives will never be the same.