The crooked moon and the coffee cup
If you were old enough to know how to get of bed yourself, this morning you would have got out of the wrong side of it. You would have started the day, as the Italians say ‘con il piede sbagliato’ with the wrong foot, or, for a baby who is only just learning what her feet are for, with ‘la luna storta’ the moon crooked.
But despite being out of sorts all day, tearful instead of cheerful, you still accomplished three great feats for a five and half month year old.
You rolled over, for only the second time in your life. And for the second time I managed to miss it, looking away and then turning back to find you flat on your back and no longer propped on your elbows.
You sat up by yourself for at least twenty six seconds, and not only did I see it all, I also captured it on film.
You had your very first sips of water, from a white china coffee cup whose tiny handle you held in your tiny hand, bringing it to your lips with determination and elegance (as they said you might*), as though you remembered how from another life.