Sunday, January 01, 2006


This is my 3-year-old nephew, Steven.

Oh my heavens, I love him. Sure, he was way cute when he was a baby. But now that he talks? He's a freaking riot. He says my name. It's the greatest. I asked my sister if I could take him home with me. She has three kids, so I figured she'd probably be up for unloading one. It's win-win, because I'd be getting a kid that's potty-trained. She chuckled and said, "Oh, sure. You can have him." But I came home empty-handed.

After I took a bunch of pictures of him, and he leaned over to look at my camera.
As I showed him one of his photos, I said, "Wow, you're really cute, aren't you?"

He won my heart when we went out to dinner and he ran up to me and yelled something. I couldn't understand him and listened closely for a few seconds. By the fourth time he repeated himself, I heard it loud and clear. "Loser!! Looooo-serrr!"

At first I was like, "Dude, did my nephew just call me a loser? What did I do? Why am I a loser to a 3-year-old?!"
Except, it was coming out more like "Looo-soowwww!"
I looked at my sister for explanation. "He doesn't know what it means. We're not sure where he picked it up. We haven't explained it to him yet."
Knowing that, I said, "No, you're the loser! Loser!"
"Hee hee hee hee!"

When we were at Mass on Christmas Eve, he was sitting two rows ahead of me. He mouthed "Loser!" and did the "L" shape with both hands. I did the "L" shape back. It was far more entertaining than anything else going on in church.

The Mr. thinks someone should explain what "loser" means before he enters kindergarten, lest he get his butt whooped after saying it to the wrong person. Hm. Good point.

His other favorite game is "knock knock" jokes with no point.
"Who's there?"
"Uhhh...the Wiggles!"