There were some gorgeous days last week, and Hannah and I took Elliot to the Brooklyn Museum after work / daycare (that's pretty much like work for Elliot).  They have this nice grassy lawn out front, with gentle arcs of stone interspersed like --- oh, screw metaphor, I’ll just show a picture. 

This nice thing about this place is that we can let him explore in any direction, knowing that if he falls there’s a 90% chance his head will hit grass.  Okay, 75%. 

But he’s actually a fairly cautious child.  He likes to walk holding one of our hands.  He’ll be toddling along, and when he reaches a curb he’s intimidated by, he’ll pause, look back, and raise an arm in the air.  This is our cue to step to his side (quickly, quickly!) and reach down and allow him to curl his five little mealworm fingers around one of our big sausage digits.

Today I we did all five stone strips on the lawn with him, in order from furthest to closest to the museum.  And each time he waited for me to step down from the stone to the lawn.  It became a little joke, me stepping first, and him following.  He looked up at me, blinking into the late evening sun, and did his little wink (which is really just a crinkle of the eyes), and then smiled and stepped off the stone himself.  

Each time he watched closely as I stepped down.  And each time he stepped with the same foot I did.  

Later, we watched a group of 10 young black girls practicing a step routine in front of the Brooklyn museum.  Elliot was fascinated.  He snapped to attention and stared fiercely at the hard percussions of their sneakers on the concrete.  He remained motionless until they finished the routine.  

When it was over, he looked at me, and made one of the sign language gestures we’ve taught him.  

It was the gesture for ‘more’.