My nephew Quinn is so awesome. I was lucky enough to be at the hospital when he was born. I stayed with his mother the first night of his life. I held him and watched him sleep. I have a gazillion pictures of him on my phone. (maybe like 100 +). Sometimes, I think to myself, if I love him as much as I do, his parents must love him fit to bursting.
Last Thanksgiving holiday week(end) his 20 month little self and I hung out. In the mornings I would put cereal in his bowl and he would feed me some. Just wanting to share 🙂 I’d give him choices on his drinks. Juice or chocolate soy milk. When it was just he and I, I would point to myself and say , “Uncle” and he would crack up like I told him the funniest joke. A queer version of peek-a-boo!
My mom wanted to get portraits done of her, I, and him. We already had portraits of him, my brother, and my dad (the 3 Quinns) that had been taken the year before. We needed to get him some new black shoes to go with his cute little suit.
Right before we left, Quinn and I were out in front of the house. Just hanging out. I walked him back & forth down the street. Then we ended up back in front of the house. He was running down the slope of the lawn to the sidewalk and laughing like a loon. Repeat. Repeat. Running. Loon laughing. Trip on a sprinkler head. Splat. Tears. Kids fall. I don’t freak out but I’m sad for him. After the crying stops and he is on his feet again, my brother, dad and I notice he has a little limp. It’s a little funny to see this. At the same time we hope it’s not serious. We don’t want to tell my mom or his mom.
Mall time. The 3 Quinns and me. The youngest Quinn is walking and doing his limpy thing. We head to Kids Foot Locker. The store is kinda far into the mall and it’s slow progress. I wait for him to want to be picked up. When he steps it looks like he wonders why his leg isn’t working right. We get to KFL and none of us can agree on what shoes to get him. It comes down to two pair and we let him choose. Quinn is a great pointer! 🙂 Mission accomplished. We step outside the store, he stops, holds out his little hand to his dad on his left. He looks up at me and holds out his little right hand for me. He uses us as support. I think, “he’s absolutely brilliant” and am totally impressed with his thinking and his will to keep walking on.
I am looking forward to telling him about his limpy 20 month old brilliant self.