The countdown to crawling has begun. Lily is scooting round the bathroom floor as fast as bottom-shuffling on lino can take her. She is practically doing that old break dancing move The Caterpillar and not content with the one roll she has perfected a series of Starsky and Hutch type rolls to catapult her towards which ever object looks the most inviting/dangerous.
I have been dreading this moment, not because I don't want her to crawl (although it's nice to know you can find a baby where you left one, just like the old legless tortoise) but because it means the time has come to baby proof my terribly hazardous/accidentwaitingtohappen house.
I have already noticed her eyeing up the inviting looking pile of electrical cables under Andy's desk, it will be no time at all before she is drinking bleach and shoving tiny pinkies into plug sockets.