The Squirt

I finally got to meet and hold my new nephew today.

Hello Austin, I'm your crazy Uncle Rod. I'll be your bad influence this afternoon...



I'd forgotten what it was like to hold a new baby (it's been over 13 years since it was an everyday experience). He's still worn out from the trip through the Play-Doh Fun Factory of birth, so he mostly sleeps when he's not eating, being furious that the feeding was interrupted for a burping, and making spicy mustard in his diaper before going back to sleep.



I was torn when shopping for a baby gift between Goodnight Moon and Jamberry. It's too soon for Where the Wild Things Are (I know because it was the first book I bought for my own honyocks and it was awhile before it really came in handy). See also Yertle the Turtle, which I think may be the best piece of literature of any type and genre of all time. I stumbled when I tried to recite the whole thing to Austin from memory, but not until I got past the first nine-turtle-throne.



Jamberry won out because Goodnight Moon is so ubiquitous I feared they already head it.



I could tell as my brother read through Jamberry that he hadn't visited the children's section since he was one himself, and neither had I when my daughters came along. It's one of the benefits of parenthood, you get a pass to enjoy a whole bunch of stuff that just won't find you without a kid. And the kid is great cover, because you can pretend you haven't memorized Yertle the Turtle because you love it yourself.

That's just the first step: having kids also lets you go places it wouldn't be cool to go as a free agent.