Learning to Walk

I don't really recall the struggle it took me to get to the point where I could just hop up and start bopping down the street.  I know it took me two years to get around to it. I can imagine though, that I had a lot of help learning, you know Mom and Dad letting me grab onto index fingers, and me doing some sort of staggering dance to move forward in a walking motion; of course maintaining the obligatory toothless grin that accompanies such actions.  Eventually, from falling flat on my butt from a standing position to falling forward and skinning my hands and knees, I managed to master it. The exact time of that magnificent first step evades me though, seems like that would be something worth remembering.

I do know that after I figured out how much fun alcohol was though, I would begin to suffer setbacks. It really amazes me how a couple hours sitting around the table with some friends drinking beer, or sitting in a pub or bar for an evening can affect the hard learned lessons of childhood so easily, or, for that matter, how eager at times I am to forget them.