A couple days ago Leta woke up at 5:30 AM making her usual noises that say, hey, I’m awake now, come and get me this instant. This happens from time to time, and our usual response is to let her fall back asleep until 7 so that we can start our day on schedule. Usually she complies, and falls back asleep, but the other morning she was being really obstinate and her noises were more like, “Hey, you fuckers, COME AND FUCKING GET ME NOW.” Yes, Leta cusses.

So Jon went to check on her to see if everything was okay, but he didn’t have his glasses on or his contact lenses in which means an elephant could have been sitting in Leta’s crib and he wouldn’t have seen it. He came back to bed and said, “All her limbs are in place, she’ll go back to sleep.” Seconds later her noises escalated to, “I’M GOING TO PRESS CHARGES, MOTHERFUCKERS.”

So I climbed out of bed and went in to see what was going on, and what Jon didn’t see was that Leta had turned 90 degrees from the direction we had put her to sleep the night before. She was perpendicular, and her head was stuck up against the bumper, her feet kicking the bumper on the opposite side, her entire body out from under the covers. The eerie thing about the whole situation was that her blankets appeared as if they hadn’t moved all night; they were perfectly straight, exactly as we had covered her the night before. It was as if some unknown force had entered her room in the middle of the night, picked her up and placed her at the head of her crib IN THE WRONG DIRECTION.

I yelled, “Jon! Jon! You’ve got to come see this,” and Leta looked up at me like, “How did this happen?” And I was all, “Dude, you’re the one who got yourself into this mess, explain it TO ME.”

You know what this means, right? Oh God, I can barely handle the thought. It means she’s on the verge of mobility. SHE’S ON THE VERGE OF BEING ABLE TO MOVE FROM POINT A TO POINT B. And you know what that means, right? Life as I know it will soon be over.