What do I love in this way?
What do I beg for and then devour in huge, sloppy bites?
What do I notice before anyone else and then fixate on until it is delivered
into my greedy, happy hands?
And the question is,
If I never end up with the evidence of my love in hot pink droplets of
liquid sugar on my chin,
Am I really loving at all?
He takes us to the ballpark and buys us cotton candy with the cash from his envelope marked “Business Lunches.”
He tucks us in every night by tickling our necks until we scream. Mom yells at him for getting us too excited before bed and then he has to calm us down. Don’t tell her, but we think he does it on purpose so he can hang out with us longer.
He makes us guacamole and lets us eat as much as we want. It’s his secret recipe and he always knows when the avocados are ready. Not too soft, not too firm.
He watches kid movies with us and laughs as loud as we do.
He programs the drums for our family band so we don’t lose the steady beat.
He goes to work sometimes, but we don’t know what he does there.
We’re just happy when he gets home.
Jesse was born at 9:00 a.m. on the Fourth of July, a true Yankee Doodle, to a small crowd of adoring fans. But the cheering hasn’t seemed to spoil him like you’d expect. Instead, he returns the favor.
Dandy (noun): someone or something of exceptional or first-rate quality. In this photo captured at last night’s College Homerun Derby (televised on ESPN tonight), Jesse is the only fan in sight on his feet cheering for the batter who just hit a ball over the yellow line. A player he didn’t know, from a team he didn’t call his own, in a sport he really doesn’t follow. But he was there, it was happening, and Jesse cheered.
Maybe everyone else had grown tired of cheering – six competitors had been swinging for the fences for several rounds. We’d seen a lot of homeruns by that time. Maybe we’d glutted ourselves on the simulated spectacle of what happens rarely in a real game. Maybe we were busy with our cotton candy or plastic-flavored cheese sauce. Maybe Jesse was the only one who recognized that hitting a tiny white ball over 400 feet with only a small aluminum stick – under any circumstances – is worthy of celebration.
Probably he’s the only one who got it right. And that’s just one reason why he’s a dandy on the fourth of July.