the jig is up

I've hid it for as long as I can.
I've pretended that I couldn't, that I was too tired, that it was too hard.
I've pretended it was too far away.
I've used all of my trademarked pathetic faces and even my helpless and sad faces.

But my parents know that I can crawl. Instead of carrying me to my toy they move themselves to the toy and call me. They clap for me and cheer me on. I would rather be carried, truth be told, but crawling is better than nothing at all. And when Mummy's not looking, I head straight for Daddy's Italian shoes.