It was a warm afternoon, and sunlight streamed through the open window as little Alayna took her first few wobbly steps across the living room. Her baby cheeks puffed out with focus, her tiny feet stomping in different directions, like a wind-up toy set loose without a plan. Each step was a comedy sketch in itself — arms flailing, knees bouncing, and her diaper giving her an adorable penguin-like waddle. Her mom, lounging on the floor nearby with a juicy mango in her hand, couldn’t stop laughing. She had just sliced the mango open and was savoring each bite when she glanced up and caught sight of her daughter’s performance. Alayna’s serious face, contrasted with her clumsy little walk, made it impossible not to laugh. She looked like a tiny explorer on a mission, even though she nearly tripped over her own feet every other second. Her mom burst into giggles, mango juice dribbling from the side of her mouth, as Alayna bumped into the coffee table and then slowly backed up like a little robot recalculating. “Mamaaa!” Alayna squealed, reaching out with sticky fingers, demanding both attention and maybe a bite of that golden fruit. Her mom, still laughing, tore off a piece of mango and handed it to her. Alayna grabbed it and sat down with a soft thump, her short adventure over for the moment. She chewed on the fruit with the pride of someone who had just climbed a mountain. There was something perfect about that moment — the messy joy of baby steps, the sweet stickiness of ripe mango, and the kind of laughter only a toddler’s uncoordinated determination can bring. Alayna’s walk might’ve been funny, but to her mom, it was absolutely beautiful.
