The Importance of Role Models

We are visiting family these recent weeks and it's been a busy time.

We haven't been back since our relocation; most of our friends and family have never met Kye. Back then, Tweenie was adorably toothless and Rascal still deceivingly calm.

It was, of course, purely coincidental that I conceived our planned third child right around this time. As it happens, Kye is starting to break out of his deliciously catatonic state that had my ovaries in an uproar a few months ago. His budding hero worship of Rascal has indeed convinced me that a fourth child would not be such a swell idea.

We spent this last weekend at the cottage with relatives. Their son is just a few months younger than Tweenie and of a similar mindset as Rascal. It was no surprise that the two of them got on famously. They share a love of all things motorized and spent most of their time on the boat and SeaDoo.

Uncle and Tantie were with us. Big Boy insisted on giving everyone a ride on the SeaDoo. He's quite possessive of the jet ski, and when Uncle asked to have a turn he was not impressed.

"You're probably going to crash it into those rocks on purpose just so we don't get to have a jet ski any more," he accused. He's the ripe old age of seven, by the way.

His dad hollered for BB to share. BB ran away, the key still dangling from his wrist.

"If I have to chase you, you're dead meat!" threatened his father. BB glared belligerently and cooperated at last.

I was in pain with abdominal spasms; I was trying not to laugh in front of Rascal. I glanced over at him once I caught my breath. He was staring at BB, eyes wide and with a fascinated smile on his lips.