The race is on!

There are 50 stairs between street level and our front door. Since we moved in two years ago, Elisabeth has gone from needing to be carried (because the steps were dangerous) to safely walking the stairs using only the railing. As we traverse those steps numerous times every day, I have often waited for the beautiful little girl half my height to arrive at each landing.

Now that has changed. I am the one chasing her up the stairs. At some point I suggested that we should race up the stairs. Elisabeth took me at my word, and raced up the stairs, taking them as fast as I do at a reasonable [adult] walking pace! Since that day, we spend less than a quarter of the time that we formerly spent climbing the stairs. (Yes, we "race" virtually every time, and yes, she gets exciting every time about beating me to the top!)

The race doesn't stop at the door. When I open the door, Elisabeth runs to the cubby where she quickly removes her shoes, stuffs them in the hole, and announces, "I won!"

She did . . . and I think I did too.