Sunday, August 16, 2009

There's a First Time for Everything

Today Beatrice picked her nose for the first time. She’s quite the precocious four-month-old, wouldn’t you say? Lily, Bea and I were at our favorite Mediterranean restaurant, Pita House, when the Great Event took place. Lily and I were munching on gyro, falafel and shawarma while Beatrice chewed contentedly on her chubby little fingers. Then it happened. Her index finger slipped into her right nostril. “Don’t pick your nose!” I playfully chided her as she pulled the offending digit out, prominently displaying a perfect white baby booger. Of course, it wasn’t her first booger. We lost count of those ages ago. And she didn’t deliberately pick her nose. But it hardly mattered. It was enough to get me thinking.

Almost everything she does is a first for her. She rolled herself over for the first time last week. On Friday she went swimming for the first time. I thought about Lily’s 17-year-old brother Reuben, who is busy playing in a band these days. I’m 32. I could go into any bar at any time and get anything I want to drink. It’s no big deal to someone my age. Reuben’s pretty much grown, physically, but he still can’t go into a bar at all, much less get served alcohol legally. And Beatrice? She’s not even half a year old. It will be about 18 years before she can enter such an establishment. 18 years. That’s almost twenty. How many firsts will she experience in those years?

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