Look at this kid! Isn't he cute?
And, by the looks of it, he seems to have things pretty well figured out.
He's only 3 years old, but he speaks 2 different languages, English and French. Well, at least that's the plan. Anytime we don't understand him, which is 97% of the time, we blame on the French accent.
Plus, he's got the memory of a steel trap. Once, when he was about 1, I came over to visit him while chewing gum and blowing bubbles. For the past 2 years every time he sees or talks to me, he calls me "bubbles". (If I ever decide to get a night job that requires a pole, I am totally using that as my moniker.)
So, you can imagine how flattering it was when I found out that my nephew, Christian, thinks I married...
TO MY BROTHER! - Yikes!
No joke. Along with calling me "bubbles", he now constantly asks "where's Mo?" with every encounter. And, according to my sister, Jennica, a few months back he was flipping through his family picture book. "Kimberly and Matthew", "Adam and Julie", "mommy and daddy", "baby Sarah Jane" and then he ran across a photo of me and was totally distraught by the sight of me solo. "Where's Mo? Where's Mo?" He was confused, Mark wasn't with me. Did we break up?!?
Hmmm... I am not sure what to do with this information! I might have to actually take a real (non-familial) date to my work Christmas parties.
And, I guess I could throw him off if I found someone to bring home for the Holidays and other special occasions.
But, until then, I'll just pretend inside my head that "Mo" is French for... Steve... or something!
6 comments:
Let me be the first to say, kudos for not being wed to your biological brother.
In an attempt to relate my life to yours, which seems to be my motive to reading your blog, I have had similar encounters from strangers in regards to my sister.
"Oh, how long have you been together?" My response being "well, 20 years- ever since my mom conjured up the strength for that last push."
But when we were younger, perhaps 6ish, my parents decided to go a different route with our hair. I had what essentially came out to a "bob" and my sister had a "peter pan" cut. I was the girl, and my sister was the boy and people with regularity confused our genders as such. This compounded with the fact we lived in Palm Springs, where quite a few people are gay or on their way to gay, we are just lucky that deep confusion did not run a muck all over my soul for the sake my knowledge now, which I wouldn't have had, that girls are so dang fun be attracted to.
Even my best friend from middle school switched teams. He was still a nice guy, but man he became a whiner.
In conclusion, brothers are boys, sisters are girls, they should never have a relationship beyond syblings, I'm not gay, my sister's not gay, you're hott, and I bet bet French sounds snooty out of a toddler.
who is steve?
interesting that you bring this up since it's been making the news in Germany lately: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/6424937.stm
and give the little guy a pass on not being the must astute judge of familial vs. romantic love. i mean he is just learning how to use the potty.
"johnny" - Fabulous story! I love that you have to relate to everyone. I do too! And, thanks for calling me "hott". I appreciate it. Can you send me the photo of you with a bob? That would be priceless.
"seymour" - That news article was creepy. For the record, I am NOT married to my brother, nor do I have any desire to be! Just in case, there was any sort of confusion.
"marigold" - Steve was just the first generic name I could think of. Plus, I don't really know anyone currently named Steve, who could misconstrue the nature of my comment, the reason I picked that name. Except, of course my neighbor! - Oh my gosh! I just thought of the greatest thing I could blog about... STEVE from Apt. #6, all I need to do is get him to pose for a picture! Stay tuned for that one!
I hope my mom doesn't get too excited about "Steve" - whoever he is!
So I had this roommate who, several months into winter semester, would still receive several questions a week about if she was dating her brother. Apparently no one bothered to notice that they shared a last name. We, being the caring roommates that we were, mocked her mercilessly about this.
You're brother is cute. Own it, Ali. Own it.
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