Houston, we have a crawler.

Henry has been toying with the idea of crawling for a few weeks now. Up on all fours, rocking for all it's worth. Then the knees began to move forward, but he didn't yet know how to move his hands. That tended to end badly: once his knees caught up to his hands, down he'd go, invariably right on his forehead. Since last week he's realized that the hands have to go somewhere, and was even moving decidedly forward in a lurching, uncoordinated way. But yesterday, it turned into actual transportation, rather than an activity unto itself. I was talking with a friend and put him down on the floor. After a few seconds, he was sucking on my shoe. I absentmindedly moved back. But within a few more seconds, he was back. After a few moves I realized, "he's following me!" Sure enough, he's on the go.

Watch out, world. Henry's on the move. Slowly, but very, very surely, and with two big sharp pointy teeth.