One of the highlights of the long weekend was being able to spend time with my six year old nephew. When children are that young, a year is way too long to go without seeing them. You miss so much growing up.
Everyone says they see a lot of me in Noah. JB says it's the look his face gets when he's deep in thought. Sis says it's his huge, pumpkin-shaped "C.S." head. (Where "C.S." can stand either for "Charles Shultz", creator of the round-headed Peanuts characters, or for "C-Section".)
Then there's his colorblindness. Both Noah and I are blessed with the recessive X-chromosome that's been passed down on Mom's side of the family for generations. When Sis told me about Noah's kindergarten crayon confusion, I was tickled pink. (I may not know what pink looks like, but I know how it feels.)
When my family arrived on the day before Thanksgiving, Noah and I played Wii games until way past his bedtime. He wanted to play Wii again on Thursday but I had too much cooking to do. So I tied an apron on him which almost touched the floor, lifted him onto a step stool, and he helped me with some of the simple chores that didn't involve anything sharp or hot.
Since I still have the attention span I had at six years old, I completely understood when he asked if he could be excused from kitchen duty to play Rayman's Raving Rabbids.
It's been a week and a half since they left. Yesterday Sis sent me a copy of Noah's revised letter to Santa. It seems he's added a few new items to his wish-list since returning to Wisconsin: a Wii and his own, Noah-sized kitchen.
|Noah wants some sort of football, a kid-sized snow blower, Hot Wheels,|
a Wii and a kitchen area. I hope this is for Santa and not Satan.