It happens to parents all the time. You work and work and work with your child, encouraging, stimulating, teaching. You look forward to each new step - and then they spring something on you out of left field, something you had NO IDEA they were working on.
Take my eldest. When she was 17 months old, I was helping her with her burgeoning vocabulary. I was delighting in her efforts to jump. (Getting off the ground with two feet at the same time is no easy task!) She could identify 'red' and 'yellow', and we were working on 'blue'. She was learning all sorts of things, and I was with her, every step of the way.
I hadn't yet learned that I didn't control everything she learned. I would have agreed with that idea, had you said it to me at the time, but I didn't really understand the concept. I hadn't experienced it.
I hadn't experienced it, that is, until one quiet Sunday summer afternoon. Naptime. She was snoozing on a mat on her bedroom floor, the door closed. Mommy and daddy were in their room. Our door was closed, too. We were secure - a triple layer of safety: the nap, and two shut doors. Because our baby? She couldn't open doorknobs.
We were busily ... napping... when...
SMACK! A small hand landed with a decisive thwak on her father's shoulder, and a reproving voice cut the air.
"BAD daddy! OFF Mommy!!"
Guess what she learned, when I wasn't looking??