A few weeks ago, Uncle Jay came to town.
He's not actually related by blood - neither Brian or I have a brother. Jay is one of Brian's friends from his law school days. He was in our wedding. Jay is one of the sweetest, most likable people on the planet with a big heart and an infectious laugh. He's single, loves kids, and is the best kind of friend to toddlers - he's the guy that doesn't hesitate to get on the floor and play with your kid. Scotty adores Uncle Jay for any number of reasons: he's a human jungle gym. He willingly plays chase. He taught Scotty about the "uh-oh" bar in the car (which Scotty still gleefully grab if I take a curve to quickly.)
Jay was in town for his Fantasy Football draft and met up with us for dinner on Friday night. He had plans with his friends for the rest of weekend, but assured us he would stop over on Sunday before he left to get in some quality Bear-time. I knew Scotty would be delighted to see Uncle Jay, and I spent most of Saturday thinking about what to serve for brunch as well as tidying up the house.
The phone rang on Sunday morning at 7:20am. It was Uncle Jay. "I'm just going to bed now," he told Brian. He wasn't going to make it. When Brian relayed the news to me, I blinked once, then uttered a most random sentiment: "Good thing I didn't thaw the good bacon." You can take the girl out of the Midwest, but you can't take the Midwest out of the girl.
Back to the matter at hand: Did Uncle Jay really just trade in time with my child for some ubiquitous Vegas vice? Or vices?
I had the tough job of breaking the sad news to the Bear. Scotty looked confused but took it well. What broke my heart later was that for the next week, he kept mentioning Uncle Jay. His lack of awareness of time made him think that Uncle Jay was still planning to come over - any minute now. Poor little disappointed Bear.
I'm fairly certain Brian had some terse words with Uncle Jay about the cancelled date. I don't know what transpired in the course of the conversation, but a few days later, this showed up on our doorstep:
He's not actually related by blood - neither Brian or I have a brother. Jay is one of Brian's friends from his law school days. He was in our wedding. Jay is one of the sweetest, most likable people on the planet with a big heart and an infectious laugh. He's single, loves kids, and is the best kind of friend to toddlers - he's the guy that doesn't hesitate to get on the floor and play with your kid. Scotty adores Uncle Jay for any number of reasons: he's a human jungle gym. He willingly plays chase. He taught Scotty about the "uh-oh" bar in the car (which Scotty still gleefully grab if I take a curve to quickly.)
Jay was in town for his Fantasy Football draft and met up with us for dinner on Friday night. He had plans with his friends for the rest of weekend, but assured us he would stop over on Sunday before he left to get in some quality Bear-time. I knew Scotty would be delighted to see Uncle Jay, and I spent most of Saturday thinking about what to serve for brunch as well as tidying up the house.
The phone rang on Sunday morning at 7:20am. It was Uncle Jay. "I'm just going to bed now," he told Brian. He wasn't going to make it. When Brian relayed the news to me, I blinked once, then uttered a most random sentiment: "Good thing I didn't thaw the good bacon." You can take the girl out of the Midwest, but you can't take the Midwest out of the girl.
Back to the matter at hand: Did Uncle Jay really just trade in time with my child for some ubiquitous Vegas vice? Or vices?
I had the tough job of breaking the sad news to the Bear. Scotty looked confused but took it well. What broke my heart later was that for the next week, he kept mentioning Uncle Jay. His lack of awareness of time made him think that Uncle Jay was still planning to come over - any minute now. Poor little disappointed Bear.
I'm fairly certain Brian had some terse words with Uncle Jay about the cancelled date. I don't know what transpired in the course of the conversation, but a few days later, this showed up on our doorstep:
Yup, that's right. A tiny firetruck that can only be described as THE GREATEST GIFT FOR A TRUCK-LOVING LITTLE BOY EVER. It has sirens, bells, whistles - even a miniature pick-ax on the back (for breaking tiny windows, I'd imagine). The truck is fast, too - and big. Scotty's little legs aren't long enough to reach the pedals, but when they are, we're going to need to run to keep up with him when he drives it. The thing is so big that I couldn't pick it up to put it away, so on a day when Scotty was in school, I ended up driving it through our house. I almost took out the pillar in our living room. And I'll be honest - the thing corners like it's on rails. Sweet ride, yo.
Needless to say, Scotty ADORES his new firetruck. The only thing better would be if it came with a real live Dalamatian puppy. (no Jay! Don't get any ideas!!!)
So Uncle Jay, thank you for such a wonderful, generous, and thoughtful gift. In the future though, all you need to do is just head to bed a reasonable hour and then spend some time with the boy. And then maybe I'll defrost the good bacon.
Needless to say, Scotty ADORES his new firetruck. The only thing better would be if it came with a real live Dalamatian puppy. (no Jay! Don't get any ideas!!!)
So Uncle Jay, thank you for such a wonderful, generous, and thoughtful gift. In the future though, all you need to do is just head to bed a reasonable hour and then spend some time with the boy. And then maybe I'll defrost the good bacon.
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