Tonight, after traipsing up and down stairs in search of band-aids, new pajama tops, better books and one more milk box before tooth-brushing, Daddy came home and the kids decided not to make the trip back to bed but to indulge their favorite Friday night activity: falling asleep on our laps on the sofa. And so they did. Directly in my sightlines to the TV, where "Hannah and her Sisters" was playing, with those quick shots of some of Mia Farrow's kids, were Jiejie's toes, delicate and small, even for her age, and a bit paddle-shaped. I wondered where she had gotten those toes, just as earlier in the evening I marveled at a little yoga show she put on, complete with a full lotus, based on the pages of yoga-wear in a New-agey catalog. Such incredible flexibility and willingness to throw herself into imitating the pictures. Whose genes are these; whose grandmother turned cartwheels and arched over into a back bend; who could bear to give up this amazing creature? Did she think of Jiejie today? Calculate her age? Sketch a portrait in her head?
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