First Steps

It’s official. Elijah walks now.

I was taking the Metra train towards Chicago this morning and my cell phone rang. I saw it was home, so I reluctantly answered (I hate phone use on the train. Rude.) knowing it must be important.

Di excitedly said, “You’ll never guess what Eli did.” The catalogue flipped through my head. Projectile pooped? Drank Grover water? Ordered a movie on Cable? She responded to my silence, “He walked 10 steps!”

At the point, if my life was a movie the camera would be above me while I shouted to the heavens, “Noooooooooooo!!!!!!” Not only did I miss one of the biggest milestones ever, it was on a day when I should have been home instead of going to the office to witness the terrible weekend attire of my co-workers (one should never have to see his employee’s calf muscles).

When I told this story to my boss, he said, “I’m sure your son’s first words will be, ‘I hate you.’” I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or bonk him on the head with something heavy and sharp.

Luckily, I got home tonight in plenty of time to see Eli’s tentative new skill. He stumbles drunkenly, grasping for mom or banister. But he laughs like a lunatic with every step. As if he is about to embark on a long two-footed quest for mischief.

I caught Grover looking at me like, “Really? It’s going to be like this now?”

p.s. I don’t have photographic evidence of the walking, so today’s pic is Di’s sister Julie and her cute French boys. All of who know how to walk.