Toads-in-the-Hole

After a week or so of warming up, Henry has begun scooting. He'd been moving short distances seemingly by magic- I'd turn my back on him happily playing on the floor and when I would look back a few moments later, Poof! he'd be eight feet away happily chewing on the laptop power cord- but over the last 36 hours he's suddenly put together the tools to move from room to room via an action that's 75% crawling and 25% swimming. The latest maneuver, navigating under the table and over the splayed-out table legs, earned him a milestone bonus: the first recorded finding of neglected and perfectly good food on the floor.

He won't remember this moment years from now when he scores a mostly-fresh piece of pizza off of his friend's dorm room's floor or the only 65%-freezer-burned tub of ice cream from last July's office social, but hopefully I will.

Just think, little man, just a few feet further and you would have found an even lusher jackpot: the not-quite-empty cat dish!