If, like a crab, you could go backward

The top of her brightly coloured bike helmet is only a few inches above the top of my table.  She's moving steadily, but not particularly quickly, backward, so I have time to reach out to steady my tall glass of iced mocha.

She bumps gently into my table, smiles beatifically at me and steps to her left to continue her reverse trek into the back of the legs belonging to a tall elderly gentleman standing in line for his morning cup of coffee.

"Walking backwards is a thing these days," I inform my neighbour on my left.  "I've been trying it myself; it's supposed to improve your balance."

The mini-back-pedaller reappears, this time walking forward, having retrieved her grandmother, and they return to their seats at the table to my right, where a tiny bike has been stashed.  The lady tells an inquiring fellow grandmother that the little girl is "just three".  The child knows she's the topic of conversation, and takes off again, sans helmet -- sideways.