Special Guest

Passport Diaries: Isaac, hi. We’re so glad to chat with you on the blog today.

Isaac: Please, Mari, call me Captain Goodbaby.

Passport Diaries: Captain Goodbaby, sure. But really, call me Mama. So Captain Goodbaby, you’re nine months old this week, is that right?

Captain Goodbaby: It sure is. And what a nine months it’s been!

PD: You can say that again. You’ve gone from a tiny bundle of sweet baby to the three-toothed inch worm sweet baby we see here today. Tell us more about your process of scooching.

CGbaby: Well you see, Mom, I have all these toys and baskets mysteriously materializing around me all the time. But what I really want is usually out of my reach. Remote controls, iphones, knives—for some reason, these are outside my easy-access circle. So you know what I said? Captain Goodbaby, I said to myself, if you want to play with knives, you’re gonna have to get to them yourself.

PD: No really, call me Mama. But I’ll have to agree with you there, Captain. I can’t see myself or your Dad delivering the knives to those precious, chubby little fists of yours.

CGbaby: Or the scissors either, right? I’ll just have to bide my time with those, wait until you’re not looking, then bam! Inch worm over there like lightning!

PD: Have you considered crawling might be faster?

CGbaby: What?

PD: Nevermind. What motivated you to leave behind your previous contented immobility?

CGbaby: That’s an easy one, Ma. That fun great uncle with the nice beard? Uncle Rhett? He really inspired me during our Colorado trip.

PD: Close. Try again: MaMA. MaMA. Tell us more about this inspiration.

CGbaby: I’ll try to paint a picture for you. Imagine everything is dim, and there ahead of you, a little way off, is a flickering light. And you don’t know why, but you want—need—that light. It’s almost like it’s pulling you forward. And the stacking cups, the relatives—none of that matters at the moment, because all you want is that flickering light.

PD: Wow, Captain Goodbaby. That’s downright poetic. So what was the figurative flame?

CGbaby: Thanks. But it wasn’t figurative. It was an actual flame.

PD: …oh. Well, given your penchant for dangerous objects, I should have seen that coming.

CGbaby: Consider it a warning. I am mobile; I am dangerous!

PD: So true. About as dangerous as a kitten.

CGbaby: Mooooom!

PD: That’s Mama to you! And I’m afraid we’re out of time. Thanks for joining us, Captain Goodbaby, and congratulations on being three quarters of a year old.

CGbaby: Thank you!