I suppose every family has one: a child with no fear. At our house, it’s Bennett. He’s brave, he’s bold, he’s the child I bet will cause our next trip to the emergency room.
He likes to slide, to climb, to race, to jump. He even seems to like falling; after each loud crash, I hear him say, “I’m ok!”
I don’t know how this custom began. I imagine it started after the hundredth time I rushed over to him and asked, “Are you ok?” He now saves me a step by answering the question before I ask it. It’s not a bad habit to have: periodically taking stock, a quick once-over, reassuring yourself that yes, I’m ok!
And I’m no longer sure who he’s answering. Sometimes, I know he’s telling me he’s okay; other times, I think he’s telling himself. As his skills grow, so does his capacity for creating increasingly complicated situations. I think he surprises even himself.
I’ve always believed a child’s first words are prophetic. Carter’s first word was “mama,” Avery’s wasn’t a word, but an entire phrase, “Iluvyou,” and Bennett?
His first word was “WOW!” followed closely by, “weehaaa!”