It was an ordinary day with Yolanda. We ate our three meals together, went to the library, played on the living room floor. I put her socks on her feet and she took them off more than a dozen times. She chased the dog. She treated my boobs like her own personal and very accessible water fountain—her, ahem, titty fountain. We danced. We sang the A-Team theme song. (Yo loves the A-Team theme song. What can I say, she’s a badass.)
During all of this normalness, something extraordinary happened. When Yoyo woke up from her morning nap, she was somehow older.
I don’t know how I could know this, but I do. Maybe her beautiful little face seemed more defined, less round. Or maybe it was the way she sat up in her crib, looked at her feet and said, definitively and with great self-assurance, “socks”. Maybe it’s because she’s getting closer and closer to taking her first steps. Whatever it is, Penelope, do you know what this means? It means that Yolanda is becoming a person! I mean, she was, she is, already a person, I know that. But she is really growing into that person. And miraculously, I get to watch it happen.
Sometimes I have to just marvel at my daughter.
(Look at me, getting all sentimental over here. Penelope, you really need to balance out this weepy-mommy nonsense with a story about dildos or leather pants or something… We need filth! Or at the very least we need some obscure 80s movie references that are only funny to you and I.)
Penelope?…
