This is my niece and my son from this weekend. They are crazy cute kids and exactly as far apart in age as my sister and I are. It's pretty fun watching them interact and knowing that it's probably very similar to the interaction we had as children. If one is on my lap, the other has to be. If one is eating cereal, the other has to be, even if the other had three hot dogs for dinner and no business being hungry before bed.
They go into a bedroom to play and make up elaborate stories about how there are ghosts. Ghosts that are haunting a plastic roast chicken that came with the play oven, and can be scared away by a flashlight, but only if a grown up is holding it. Ghosts that used to be haunting my six month old nephew's crib until they figured out they were getting in trouble for climbing on it.
And, oh, the baby! I only saw him three weeks ago, but he's so much bigger and beginning to show serious signs of mobility. My niece is obviously used to having him around. My son is very not. Three weeks ago he wasn't bothered in the least by his cousin, but this weekend was a different story. I held him in my lap on the living room floor and Gabe came barreling up to sit on my other knee. He looked me deep in the eyes and gave me a very quaky, "No, Mommy." A short while later I was holding the baby sitting on a bar stool near the kitchen counter when he wanted to share my lap again. That time there was no way to physically lift him up there with the one arm I had free. I told him that I couldn't hold him and the baby. He offered me a very simple solution. "Mommy, put baby down!"
Awwwwww
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