Never underestimate the ability of an 18 month year old trying to make a quick getaway

What can a 18-monther do?

• Sleep
• Eat solids
• Walk
• Start to talk – “no”, “mum”, “dad”, “yummy”, “laptop” (don’t ask)
• Point
• Change the channel on the satellite
• Control and direct an electric quad bike with the skill and acumen of a 30 year veteran

Now, I’m quite happy to assume that the last one wouldn’t have normally made it onto your list. I’m quite sure that the thought of your 18-month old hurtling off across a playing field on a quad bike is not your idea of safe afternoon fun.

Of course, you reckon without the influence of grandparents. I can see them in the shop now.

Granddad: “Seb needs a bike.”
Grandma: “But he can’t ride yet.”
Granddad: “So we can him on with 4 wheel”
Grandma: “He’s not strong enough to cycle a go-kart.”
Granddad: “It’s OK, we’ll get one with an engine”
Grandma: “Oh alright. I’ll pay”

So, an electric quad arrives. Red, with Spiderman logo’s all over it. Plainly to Seb, this was the single most amazing (not to say largest) machine he’d ever been near, let alone on. Grandad had of course charged it up before bringing it round, so it was ready to go.

So, I’m looking at this thing. A 12v electric motor on something that weight less than what I had for lunch. A binary accelerator (on/off) at foot level, and no breaks. Seb’s going to die.

Some common sense had arrived, in the form of a helmet and pads for knees and elbows. When kitted out, Seb did look like a very small Michelin man. So of to the park. I was under the assumption that we would carry the quad there and then let him get on it. Nope, Grandad wanted him to try now.

So Seb jumped on, with help, and held onto the handle bars. Grandad was explaining the foot accelerator. I think he got as far as “This is where you put your foot…” before Seb shot off. I mean he was gone. As he comes to a bend we’re all shouting “Lift your foot up!”.

He simply turned the handle bars and sailed around the corner. And then stopped. Looking over his shoulder, and grinning at us, it would appear that he’d finally found something he could really do.

It was truly amazing to watch. He understood turning, stopping, when to accelerate. He’d still get into trouble if he didn’t concentrate. A glance over the shoulder would result in a meeting with the hedge. But overwhelmingly, he knew what to do.

And the reason for me writing this story, is so that I never underestimate him again.