All three of us were in our bedroom, Evi hanging clean laundry on a clothes rack and Baby Sasha and I doing nothing in particular on the bed. I don’t remember why, but I lost track of Sasha for a moment. On Evi’s side of the bed, I stood up and looked back at my side just in time to see Sasha lose her balance and fall off the edge of the bed.
Holy—!
I leapt across the bed and–not unlike Jerry Rice–caught her in midair.
It took me a moment to realize what just happened.
I just saved my baby’s life!
Okay, that’s an overstatement. She’s fallen off the bed before. Actually, there aren’t many horizontal surfaces in this house off of which she hasn’t fallen. But as I lied there, Sasha still dangling off the edge but safely in my hands, I felt like I did something heroic. I caught my baby as she was falling! Evi must be amazed!
Wait…if Evi was so amazed, how come she hasn’t said anything? I turned, and Evi was still hanging fucking clothes!
“Evi! Didn’t you see this?”
“See what?”
Are you kidding me?
“I JUST SAVED SASHA, THAT’S WHAT.” I still had the baby hanging over the edge of the bed, just for effect.
“Oh, good job, Baby.” She never turned her head.
Now you know why superheroes such and Superman, Batman and myself feel so underappreciated.
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