Some days, when I get home from work, my one year old daughter tells me a story. I walk through the door and, before I’ve even put my bag down, she launches into an urgent report about something interesting that happened while I was away. She’s only recently started doing this. So far, the stories have all been about how she fell over and hit her head on something.
When Karl Marx invented public transport in the mid-nineteenth century, he envisioned a world united in peace and harmony by cheap and efficient mass transit systems. Little did he know that his vision was doomed to fail because of one simple truth about human nature: people don’t like to share.
My one year old daughter has always been a cautious kid. She likes to stay well within her comfort zone, both physically and socially. She didn’t crawl until she was ten months old. She tends to cling to my wife and I at social gatherings. Until recently, if we took her to a busy playground, she’d sit with us and watch the other kids play for a good fifteen minutes before she’d even so much as look at a see saw. And when she did venture out into the play area, she’d do so with all the courage and confidence of a baby deer in a biker bar.