Remember those strongest man type contests on TV from the 90s - some huge Danish guy pulling a greyhound bus down the street while tossing beer barrels over his shoulder?
Vivian's got a version of her very own. She rounds up all three bar stools from the kitchen area and shoves them over to the dining area where she picks up a dining chair or two. Then she pushes the whole train all over the house. Sometimes, she has her music/learning table-toy thing in front of the processing - still gleefully playing a recording of the alphabet in Spanish. All this while she leans into the end of the pile at a steep angle and grunts like Magnusson or whoever on TV. Soon all the furniture is in the wrong place.
Then I run around and try to bring some semblance of order by moving the shit back. Before I am done, Ms. Magnusson is at it again. And this happens several times a day.
When Vivian was a newborn, I would dream about her future. A great lawyer, a super geek...
It turns out that my dear girl is going to grow up and be a great furniture mover. When I tell Alu about this, he suggests that I buy her a little dolly and sit back and watch her moving business take off.
The funny side-effect of this is that she doesn't need to learn to walk. Why do that when you can just lean on a couple of chairs and move them over to where you want to go?
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