Photo Finish

The thing with crawling, you see, is that there appears to be an inherent speed-limit. There is only so fast you can move hands and knees before overcooking it and plunging forward in a spectacular dive. Usually, these moments occur when excitement has reached such an enthralling peak that it begins to impinge on co-ordination. Crawling races with Daddy, for instance, can bring about this particular set of circumstances. Throw in the new and interesting aspect of crawling races on the beach… well, it was always going to end with a face-full of sand.

Lucky that Mummy was on hand to intervene, and wasn’t messing about taking photos of her chaps’ bottoms. Ahem.

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