My Boy is a Chinese Acrobat

Seriously.

The boy is approaching his first birthday. This is roughly about the time when he will transform from a creature that eats, craps, cries, whines, eats and craps some more into a little person that I can do things with. However, already, he has demonstrated the physical acuity of Jackie Chan.

I have seen him crawl up three stairs, reach the gate that blocks further progression up those stairs, climb the gate (yes, I said climb the Goddamn gate) using his hands and toes (not just using his toes, but, clenching the Goddamn mesh in between his big toe and the second toe (you know, the piggie who stayed home)), look back over his shoulder and, with a pregnant pause for dramatic effect, launch himself into the Goddamn air backwards, spin in mid air and land on all fours with the flat "twhap" sound that Olympic Judo practitioners work a lifetime to achieve.

All this he does with the nonchalance of an NBA all-star performing a standard lay-up in pre-game warm-ups.

The first time this happened, I was almost in too much shock to think about it. Now, as with all things in parenting, I have grown accustomed to it and even grade him on his performance. I gave his his highest mark when he managed to spin his body about 120 degrees from the plane created by the gate.

I better get myself down to fighting weight before this kid fully transforms or I am going to pay for it.