"Get in! Close the door!"

Who IS this little stranger who gives such commands to me? Like he's been talking his whole life and it's the most natural thing that he should express himself in complete sentences, ain't no big deal. And what is this? "Get in! Close the door!"

Earlier in the week, I saw Mr. Pie for a couple of hours. I walked up to the car where he was strapped into his seat in the back. Opening the door and leaning in, I said my hellos. He was smiling as I approached, then his face grew serious. "Get in!" Severely he pointed to the seat beside him, wagging his fat little finger. So I did as he demanded. Of course. Then he waved that same finger beyond me, to the door I'd just opened. "Close the door!" Such urgency in his voice! (I think he was concerned that I not disappear after a hello; if I was captured in the car with him, he could keep a better eye on me.) It was a hot day and it wasn't quite time to go anywhere yet, so I said so. "It's hot. Let's wait 'til everybody's in and we're ready to go."

To which this tiny person who is growing and learning more things every day than I learn in a month said, "Okay!"

This photo was taken a half hour later. Somebody - and it was not me, I assure you - gave him a "sucker!!!!!" and he found some paper towels in the bag I was carrying, unrolled them, draped them over his head, then his lap. Such delight at the simple things. Who knew a little ball of solid sugar on a stick and a roll of Disposable Paper Towels Of All Things could be that much more interesting than any one of the scads of expensive toys and books with which his little love-and-stuff-filled-life surrounds him?

That's all. If you're not into other people's kids you'll wonder why I wrote this post in the first place. I might too, if our roles were reversed. What can I say? There's very simple, good, surprising pleasure at being an auntie.

Happy Friday, ya'll. Break's over. Back to work!