So... last week I believe I may have voiced my concern re: boy-o's wanton ambivalence toward the practice of getting about on two, rather than four limbs. And I really was concerned.
Turns out I needn't have been.
Yesterday, my son stood up and took five steps.
No fanfare. No fuss. Like he's been doing it all along. And perhaps -- just like that character Andy in Little Britain - you know, the one meant to be a quadriplegic in a wheelchair, who can leap out and swim the English channel when his carer's back is turned... perhaps my son has been practicing when my back is turned, secretly laughing behind his grubby little hand all the while I carry him about when he should.have.been.walking.
Boy-o is officially on the move.
And about time, too!