Yaba Daba Doo!
I think it's safe to say that this is Jackson's favorite toy. When Aunt Vickie first gave it to him he wasn't very good at making it go, but he's since become an expert using his feet to get around, like a little Fred Flintstone. He's so good at it, in fact, that he can paddle those little legs and get enough momentum to pull his legs up and send himself flying across the floor. This is exactly what he was doing on Tuesday while I was in the kitchen putting away the groceries. I was devoting most of my attention on consolidating two bottles of vegetable oil when I noticed Jackson lining up for a takeoff on his car. A blur of child and car closed the ten feet fast as I yelled "Jack, don't hit me! Don't hit me!" ...And he didn't. However, the sight of my wild son screeching "WHEEEE!" and stopping two centimeters short of my shin was enough to make me miss the bottle and dump at least a cup of vegetable oil all over the counter and myself. At least my legs are still intact.