Last night our neighbor Carol dropped by with her two kids to give Leta another bag of clothing. THANK GOD for Carol, man, because all the laundry is still sitting next to the washer, and my plan for today was to take a Hefty garbage bag and cut out holes for arms and legs. A black, plastic onsesie, if you will.
As they were leaving Carol’s two-year-old daughter, Ella, who already has a membership in Mensa turned to Leta and said, “Bye bye, Leta!” And Leta looked up at Jon and I who were waving goodbye to Ella, AND LETA WAVED GOODBYE. It was her first wave. THE FIRST. And for those of you who visit this website and roll your eyes whenever I go talking about that kid again, those of you who can’t stop coming back because your righteous indignation insists that you must, you know you sold your soul to the devil when that person caught you in the shower with your fellow fraternity brother doing naughty things to each other’s bathroom parts, and you offered up your heart to the dark side so that NO ONE WOULD FIND OUT. Well, I know about it. It’s time to let yourself feel again.
Jon and I went ballistic. It was one of those moments that sort of freezes in time and you can barely breathe because LIFE is just erupting right there in front of your eyes and you can’t believe it. For a few minutes last night the love and excitement in the room almost blew the door off its hinges, and I picked up the phone to call my mom, to tell her about what had happened, to share the excitement.
She was in her car on a Los Angeles freeway headed to the airport, so she could barely hear me, and I shouted, “Leta! She waved! FOR THE FIRST TIME! And you weren’t here to see it, so that means she loves me more than you. SO SUCK IT.”