And In This Corner....

There are aspects of living with Tess that surprise us. For example, I hadn't put it together that eventually Dana would look around and see other seven-year-olds playing with their four-year-old siblings, throwing a football or riding bikes. It bothered him that Tess couldn't do these things, and why shouldn't it? He thinks about speed almost all the time; I see it in the movies marketed to him, all about race cars and speedy snails. Well, Tess is the opposite of speed. When we used to send him outside, to burn off some energy through a few laps around the house, he would return, panting, and she was a fixed point for him, sitting on the carpet, right where he left her.

And then came wrestling. The two of them were sitting on the floor together one day, when she just turned and jumped on him, basically. He's skinny for his age, and she's, um, Rubenesque by comparison. She had this crazy smile right before it happened, and then she took him down. There was no escape. He laughed, and then she laughed and tightened her choke hold. "She's making me die!" he croaked. It was awesome.

He still gets frustrated when she can't do stuff. And he still asks us when we can have another kid. (Not happening--we're done.) But now these wrestling matches are his go-to option for interacting with her. They never get tired of them. I sit and referee, mostly to prevent her from biting his ears, and I also call the fights, in a voice that's equal parts Michael Buffer and Jimmy Lennon, Jr. I call her "The Thunder Down Under" and he's "The Southern Dandy." It's during these matches that I see the most emotion in her face. When he gets close, she knows it. Sometimes she diverts her eyes, but there's no mistaking the mischief in them.