Last month, little one made an important decision – she no longer needs her pushchair when she went out.
I say she ‘made’ the decision. In truth we just went out one day and I’d forgotten to put the wheels, as we call them, in the back of the car.
As such, little one was forced to walk as she had no choice.
It was the kind of decision Russians made under Stalin – here is choice A and here is choice B, which is also choice A.
What we were not expecting was how well little one accepted this decision and embraced the joy of walking.
It was like looking in your wallet for a fiver and discovering a wad of hidden £50 notes.
Previously, when we hadn’t got the wheels, little one would walk about 20 yards and then begin clinging to my leg like a collie made of Velcro and begin howling like a wolf with toothache to be picked up and carried.
And seeing as these events usually occurred in the middle of busy supermarkets, shopping centres or town high streets, I had little choice but to give in to her demands.
But now she loves to walk, loves the fact that she is doing something independently and that she can jump in a nearby puddle if she wants without being constrained by the straps of a pushchair.
Of course, the said pushchair has not been completely abandoned – sometimes it’s still very useful to have as an option – but not needing it nearly so much has made going out a lot easier.
And not just for walking around places either.
Getting to places is now a much more freestyle experience without the wheels.
If we weren’t in the car, then taking the bus used to require planning on a scale of the D-Day landings.
But free of the wheels, mummy and little one can take the route across the parkland to the bus-stop and not be confined to concrete paths.
And little one loves the bus.
She likes the fact it’s yellow and blue, and the fact that it’s a tall bus (by which she means a double decker) and that she gets to go on both sorts of bus to see her friend.
She finds passengers fascinating too, from the old ladies who smile and say how lovely she is, to the fellow little people who sometimes want to have a shouting contest, to the kids who stare moodily at their phones.
And she’ll be taking to the skies for the first time this summer too after we booked a first-ever holiday abroad as a family.
She is very excited about the prospect of going on a plane, so much so she asked mummy where the plane was for going to swimming last week.
She likes the train too, although she still expects to see Santa whenever she travels by rail.
I try to explain to her that East Midlands Trains isn’t the same as the Santa Special steam train on the Great Central Railway but she looked like she didn’t believe me.
No matter, the fact is that journeys, whether on foot or by public transport, have suddenly become so much more enjoyable because she has made them so much easier.
And for that, I love her even more.