It all unfolded in a moment. I was standing at the bottom of the old wooden stairs, when I heard Denise yell “MADISON!” I heard quick, tiny footsteps and knew what was coming. I looked up and saw a streaking, determined toddler headed for the steps. Terror. I knew I couldn’t climb them quick enough to stop her (the baby gates haven’t arrived yet). I started to sprint but then froze, helpless, when I saw her eyes register that she was out of solid ground. We both knew this was going to be bad. Then I see this hand come from nowhere; a blur, really. Madison’s progress stops abruptly as she’s yanked backward by her upper arm. I realize that I’m seeing my wife Denise in a full-on, skidding, headfirst dive.

In a lifetime of watching professional sports, I’ve seriously never seen a catch like it. Not even close. Pure instinct. Fearless. Hall-of-fame type stuff.

You moms can be pretty freaking amazing.