Friday, September 08, 2006
Four years ago today it was raining--not a brutal hammering rain--just the gentle sort of rain you get at the end of summer when things are cooling down a bit. On that day we also were graced with the arrival of a fearless, intrepid boy, my nephew. You may recognize the gun and the pajamas from earlier when I posted his ferocious bear-killer face and stance. This was take one, when I first said "make a mean bear-killer face." This was one of those moments when I had to make a conscious effort not to laugh at his ardor, because he was just so excited by the thought of killing a bear that he didn't have the self-awareness to look truly mean. What a brute, eh?
He is an absolute joy, and as with his sister - when I think about how happy he makes me, I could cry like a baby.
He's small now, but I know one day he'll be a huge man, a natural athlete, and probably more adventurous than will be healthy for his old auntie's nerves. He wants to be a pilot, and he would carry a light saber daily if that were possible, and I believe he'll probably kill a bear someday - he's not the sort to give up on a dream. So for now, I'll just sit back and cherish how delighted I am that my sister and brother-in-law brought such a wonderful gift into our family as this little man, our pocket Atlas. And I'll always remember his arrival during a late-summer rain, a harbinger of the unsurpassably lovely changing of the seasons. Happy Birthday, Bear-Killer! Aunt Phlegmmy loves you very, very much.