DOWN HOME: First taste, best

I confess. We all stood around and gawked as Ezra's life changed forever.

One experience like that, and a guy's set for eternity. No going back to the old way. No forgetting. No turning around. After just one experience, as the magically insightful Lyle Lovett song goes, "you can't resist it."

So, there we were—most of the people who love him the most—taking pictures, carrying on, and laughing until tears rolled down our cheeks.

Ezra's own mother orchestrated the whole event. That would be Lindsay, the eldest offspring of Joanna and me. Lindsay always will be our baby, and Ezra is her baby.

Only he's not such a baby anymore. And that's how we arrived at this moment, witnessing the end of an era.

We—Auntie M and Unkie (known to the rest of the family and friends as Molly and David), Jody (Ezra's grandmother and my wife, Joanna) and Marvo (well, me)—drove down to Buda to celebrate Ezra's first birthday. Oh, yeah, and to visit Mama Lindsay and Daddy Aaron.

How could a whole year have passed since Jo and I maintained our phone-at-the-ready vigil, lest we miss that all-important call, "It's time"?

Only a year ago, we sped out of our North Texas driveway, scampered across the Metroplex and skittered on down to Hillcrest Hospital in Waco. We waited with bated breath as Ezra slid into the world, swallowed his first great gulp of air and wailed his arrival.

Almost before we could wipe away our tears of joy, Ezra started changing. He morphed from a helpless little lump o'cuteness into a world-class eating, pooping, sleeping machine. Then he started noticing life around him. And then he started charming everyone around him.

Now, he's a smiling, happy little squirt who scoots across the floor faster than you can say, "lightning." He's got five teeth, blond hair, humongous hazel eyes and a smile that can stop his granddaddy's heart mid-beat. He speaks a dialect consisting of hard consonants and the letter "O," waves bye-bye and laughs with abandon when grownups make fools of themselves for his pleasure. I'm happy to report he loves books.

And so we made our pilgrimage to Buda to help Ezra celebrate his first birthday. We brought presents. But his mama prompted the highlight of the weekend when she strapped him in his highchair and placed his first cupcake before him.

Lindsay pinched off a piece of banana cake. Ezra plopped it on his tongue and made a sour face. But then he shoved cream-cheese frosting deeply into his mouth. The first taste of sugar alters all life that follows. Ezra held that frosting to his lips, and except for a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, didn't move for-ev-er. We smiled. We took pictures. We waved and called out to him. Ezra's eyes shone as he glanced at each of us, but he did not move. For-ev-er. Finally, he relaxed, lowered the cake and smiled so brightly we needed sunglasses.

Life is sweet. So is sugar. And so is Ezra.