little fin.

He takes a few tentative steps. Turns. "Bye-bye, kay-dee!"
"Bye-bye, Fin."
Two more. A small stumble. He turns, smiles. "Bye-bye, kay-dee!"
"Bye-bye, Fin."
The call and response delights him. His small shoes move him away, but after only a few more wiggles towards his front door, "Bye-bye, kay-dee!"
"Bye-bye, Fin."
And I know he's going to get big, learn how to have conversations, have moments of sadness, terror, angst, and (particularly when he hits puberty) experience painful awkwardness, but in these moments, he is a simple fellow. He knows what makes him happy, and he goes for it-- again and again.
"Bye-bye, kay-dee!"
"Bye-bye, Fin."