The look of pure joy on his face while running, naked and soaking wet, through the house after bath time, slipping on hardwoods, losing his precarious balance repeatedly in the presence of water drip-dropping from his limbs as he flees at top speed from imaginary capture. The even greater joy, bordering on hysteria, if he is actually chased during this time.
The jaunty toss of any bag (lunch, tote, diaper, camera, purse, it matters not to him) by its straps over his shoulder, accompanied by an emphatic and drawn out Byeeeeeeeee! as he walks haphazardly toward the door. He says Byeeeeeeeee! like he's throwing down the gauntlet, challenging us to a duel to the door, daring us to stop him in his act of brazen escape. If car keys are left low enough to be within reach, they too will be tossed over the shoulder with impish attitude and a clearly stated: KEYS! Followed by: Byeeeeeeeee! and that crooked, determined stride toward liberty.
His fake laugh, which originally appeared months and months ago, then disappeared, and has made a recent resurfacing. HahaHeeheeHahaHeeheeHahaHeehee. It's actually kinda freaky, but I'd like to remember it anyway. It might come in handy around, oh, say, junior high or so.
Finally, and perhaps the most exquisite memory morsel to cling to: lately he SLEEPS like an angel, like a well-oiled machine, like a run-on sentence, he sleeps for so long, and at such predictable--yet flexible--intervals, we are talkin' twelve hours at night and 2-3 hour afternoon naps, put him in his crib AWAKE and he puts himSELF to sleep, NO CRYIN', somebody needs to high five me right here! And it's all due to my
I always like to remember my moments of absolute dumb luck. I'm not religious, or a gambler, but I've had my fair share of Absolute Dumb Luck, and parenting, like writing, is both a prayer and a gamble every day. I'm grateful as hell to the Gods and the Odds of Absolute Dumb Luck.
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