When the internet went down...

... I wrote the following:

He doesn’t stop to ask the time, to think things through.  His next move is all that matters, a speeding tunnel approach to life.  He sees an apple.  Wants the apple.  Sees a dog.  Wants to kiss that dog, even as she is walking away, though her wagging tail might catch him.  His minders interrupt, when they dare, to try and keep him fresh, bringing down his wrath upon them.  Other times he’ll bestow an ocean of caring when they least expect it, a soothing arm about their neck, or intensely offered part chewed biscuit.  Before they can show gratitude – he’s off again, on to the next thing.  Like the weather, unpredictable – he’ll climb, dig, jump, dance, sing, spin, splash and fall.  Throwing stones and grass.  Casually he leaves his belongings, sometimes including leaves, anywhere.  He can’t be robbed – nothing has any value – except the thing he most wants in the moment.  He’ll turn blue and breathless with rage if you try to take that though.  He’ll scream and pout and silently sob, watery eyes glaring till you, cowering, give it back; or somehow turn his focus over to something else, a show, a drink, a bit of action.  He laughs with every laugh he hears even when he least feels like it, can’t help it.  Applauds generously at the end of music, live or pre-recorded, he’s no art snob.  Enjoys bright colours of the supermarket, every bit as good as fine art exhibits.  He’ll also laugh at tears, giggles at a sneeze, tooth brushing gets guffaws and dogs eating bubbles are hilarious.  Life is hilarious.  He is hilarious.  He doesn’t stop.

So maybe the internet is to blame for the laziness, at least in part...