Oh, And You

I've always understood that once a baby entered the picture she would instantly be the center of attention. And I'm not so naive or so vain as to have expected anything else but, truth be told, the degree and speed with which I became a footnote in my own life took me a tad by surprise.

I won't bother enumerating the times my parents have called to ask if "she's doing anything new." A reasonable question until you realize that their last call was one day prior. More recently, I've been talking about my parents coming out to visit. Understandably, they're chomping at the bit to see Otter, whom they haven't laid eyes on since she was 2 months old. (For the record, they haven't seen me in that long either, but I digress...)

In trying to work out the timing of the trip, I made what I thought was a splendid suggestion that they come when I have some time off from work.
"But we could just hang out with Otter while you're working," said my mother.
"Well, I kind of wanted to see you guys too..." I said.
"Oh, you see us all the time," she responded. Yes, it sounded that sad and lame.

This past weekend I realized that the SB has pulled the last of my staunch supporters over to her camp. The Bay Hill golf tournament was coming to a close and Bree, the resident golf enthusiast was watching intently. Otter was hanging out, watching vaguely as Tiger Woods was making his final charge for a victory. As she sat in her dad's lap, Tiger came from behind and won. Bree was ecstatic.

"Otter and I have just shared our first sports moment," he said. I pointed out to him that the girl had zero idea of what had transpired and moreover, she'd "watched" golf before.

"But I just watched Tiger win with her," Bree insisted. "Oh," he added after a pause. "And you."