This little guy turned 14 yesterday. That seems impossible!
As I posted this picture to facebook, I was reminded of a day about 11 years ago, when Caedon and I were visiting a Baptist Campground called Leuders out in West Texas.
He was about to be three, and one of the things Caedon was obsessed with at the time was going up and down stairs. For a two-year-old, stairs are an amazing discovery, and a skill that has to be perfected. Up and down, up and down, all the time.
Out at Leuders, they had just built a new stage area outside the cafeteria. Eight or nine big, bright, shinny new, pine stairs! Caedon was so excited. I watched him as he carefully worked his way up the stairs to the stage. There was no handrail. He went up no hands. Complete concentration.
Then came the down part.
I held back wanting him to do it himself. Actually, I was given clear indications from Caedon that that was what he wanted. He did not want to hold my hand, thank you very much, Dad. The first couple of stairs were fine. But when he was still five or six steps up, he lost his toddler balance.
As if everything was happening in slow motion, you could read it on his face. He knew he was tipping forward. He knew he was going to fall, I scrambled to get to him, but there was no way I was going to get to him in time. And I saw his decision process as it happened. There was no way he was going to roll down those stairs. With the last bit of control and balance he had, he putt everything he had into a great, go-for-broke, leap. He landed, did a somersault of sorts, and came out on his feet.
Then he put his hand up above his head as if he had just done an intentional gymnastic feat.