His standing pose is like a kung-fu stance, feet apart, slightly wobbling. As he steps out, and he holds out his hands directly in front of him like a zombie groping for fresh blood. There is a trail of saliva on the floor, marking the places where he has passed. (The drool dripping from his mouth is fascinating to watch: the transparent fluid is held by protein chain forces which are strong enough to stretch it into a 20cm strand. It is much like a spider web permanently dangling between his lips and his pants.)
Cola wanders around the house aimlessly, fleeting from room to room in search for constant entertainment. Sometimes he discover interesting books from the bookshelf and brings it to me. Sometimes he meets up with EggEgg in the nursery for silly giggles and toy squabbles. Sometimes he catches me stealing a cookie from the kitchen pantry and wants one too.
Cola has plotted to run away from home, twice. The front door is ajar, here we go... He paused at the door, looked at me as if to say a final goodbye, then proceed to slowly stepping out into the big unknown world.
"Hey where are you going, Baboo?"
"Come back, it's raining!"
He shook his head frantically and walked away from the house even faster than before. Every time we caught him and man-handled him back inside the house, he chucked a furious tantrum. Another escape attempt foiled by those vigilant grown-ups!
Ever since he has been able to walk, he has developed an severe allergic reaction to car seats and strollers. Like a madman in the psychiatric ward, he wails and kicks as soon as he is strapped into the seat. Car rides are never the same again...
(Another attempt to run away, this time in a shopping mall. Cola pretended to be casually pushing the stroller around the merchandise racks, until he found the EXIT door and hasten his pace. Terribly disappointed when I told him to make a U-turn, just as he was about to succeed in reaching the carpark.)
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