While learning to walk, Jonathon had clung happily to our fingers, leaning on us for support. We had held him safely between us. Now that he could walk on his own, however, he wanted nothing to do with either parent. If I carried him, he squirmed to get “down.” Once on terra firma, he scurried away as fast as his wobbly legs would carry him. Terrified for his safety, I dashed after him, clamping my hand around his chubby fist. Then I endured ear-splitting screams of protest as he tried to free himself from my restrictive vice grip. (Oh, and …
