my little baby nephew

I have a precious baby nephew. (I’ve had him for awhile now). He is the sweetest boy (although he tries his hardest to deny it). He is also kind and loving (although he tries his hardest to disguise it). And he is such a cutie (although he doesn’t want to recognize it in himself).

This little boy has such a funny sense of humor (oh, and he knows it, too, doesn’t try to disguise OR deny that). In its purest form it takes the shape of his trying to convince us of some sort of untruth, maybe a dangerous exploit of his own or some juicy tidbit about another person in earnest and sincere terms. He will go to great lengths to concoct a fantastic story then further embellish it with elaborate details, weaving a tale of the likes of Mark Twain or Jon Lovitz’ Pathological Liar character (from SNL).

When he tries this with his mom, (she used to) and still sometimes does fall for the story for two reasons, I think. 1. He’s her little boy and he’d never, ever lie to her and so she wants to believe everything he says is true. 2. As his mom, she also has a morbid fear that it might be true, could be true, however horrible or edgy he makes it sound.

My job, however, as the beloved aunt, is to emulate more of a “Mary Poppins-like” demeanor. “Stuff and nonsense” I say. “No way,” or “I simply don’t believe it. You wouldn’t do that. That’s simply not who you are.” “Yeah,” he says with a laugh, and he finally gives up the story. “But how do you know I didn’t?” “Because I know you,” I say.

My little baby nephew... His future will encompass many great and fantastic things. How do I know? Because I know him...