Tooth count: two big, gleaming pearly whites.
Chances of escape: extremely low due to continued thwarted crawling attempts. He's desperate to go places, though, and is holding himself up very well, going on lots of little wobbly walks while I cling onto him by the armpits.
Topics of conversation: two. The first is a loud and guttural 'uhh!' which somehow seems an appropriate noise for any given situation. The second relates to something that sounds a lot like 'a boo boo bear'. He repeats these words over and over, more and more emphatically, and the longer it goes on, the more he looks at me like I'm an idiot who blatantly didn't pass her GCSE in Samuel-speak.
Gourmet tastes: varied. After a slow start on the weaning front, I'm now starting to think that he'll eat pretty much anything so long as it's puréed. Finger foods are still proving challenging eats, but he is fascinated by them. I see this as a blessing in disguise since I have discovered that a single tiny rice cake can calm him down when he's screaming and keep him occupied for up to a quarter of an hour. Thumbs up (and kettle on).
Favourite activities: bouncing wildly on my knee, bouncing wildly in his Jumperoo, bouncing wildly whilst pulling my hair and bouncing wildly when he sees the cat. He's a man who knows what he likes.