A horse is a horse - or... a dog.

This may get a little dull but, hey, it does amaze us.

Yet again we're constantly being astounded by what Master M is learning every day.
And what he has yet to learn but is determined to do so the hard way.

A family trip down the coast and the house where mum and dad were married revealed a paddock of horses behind the block.

Which, apparently, are dogs.

Or "DGGGS!" as the boy proudly exclaimed.

Well, it makes sense. They have four legs and a long tail and tendency to eat out of your palm if you let them. (Which the boy almost did.)
On the other hand they also spray wee like a skunk and sleep standing up. But they're finer details to be noticed later.

For now they're "DGGGS!"
Big ones.

As usual the boy also took a shine to the water, and not having had a swim lesson for a few weeks (being school hols and all that) was somewhat desperate to leap into the somewhat chilly extremes extremes of Bass Strait.

Now much as mum and dad tried to keep him out, and much that the lads the perfect snack size for Jaws, it was decided to slap on the mini wetty and let him have a go.
The face upon first cold wave was a sight to behold.
But that wasnt going to stop him, with the final result being... his first surf.

Yup, chucked onto dads board and released on a shin high (for him) wave to slide across the shallows.
Which he wanted to do again. And again.
Till one time the fins touched bottom, he slewed to the right, mum grabbed him, ...and dad wailed as he realised that the slewing was also removing a fin and its plugs and depositing them in the sand never to be seen again.

Oh well, nothing a $100 worth of board repair couldn't fix. ("Geez - pinching my gear and wrecking it already - I was kinda hoping we'd make it to the teens before that started".)

But all these learning experiences and leaps forward in communication (surely it has to be the worlds most heart-melting moment when you're carrying your son to bed and he looks up into your eyes and says "kiss?" - leans up and plants one on you???), theres also the semi-learnt experiences.

Such as "how long are my legs"?

See the boy has very wisely learned that to get down from a step, you should go down backwards. This works equally well for chairs and couches. But herein lies the rub... it doesn't work so well when the height you're lowering yourself from is taller than you are.

Then you just plummet like a stone.

The boy though, hasn't quite worked this out, and hence we've found him backing off precipitous heights and even dropping off stuff (e.g., decks on the back of the holiday house) like some demented reverse-gear shuffling lemming.

(Maybe a future in abseiling?)

Still all this learning and language appears to have also taught him some habits we can see can only end in tears.
Namely ours.

Case in point.

Mum slaves over a hot stove preparing a nice little din-dins - tortellini; an old Mike fave - as the lad appeared to be starvin' Marvin. She pops him in his high chair, presents Master his meal and...
He tosses it on the floor.

Luvverly.

Mum pops him out of the high chair.
He marches across to the pantry, goes the raid, and produces a jar of Heinz finest baby food.
Marches back to mum, mouth open.
Hands her the jar, mouth open and leaning forward and almost eating said jar, glass and all.
She hands the open jar and a spoon back, and he proceeds to feed himself till he cant get the last bits and hands it back insisting she scrape out the last morsel.

Oh dear.
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