Tuesday, October 11, 2011
You Say Potato, I Say Nut Sack
A few weekends ago, I was sitting in the kitchen with my sister and her son. Her son is exactly 9 months older than Jack. You see, 13 years ago I came home from a few days of helping my postpartum sister take care of her sweet baby boy and gave Tim the “green light,” if you will. The result? Two boys like brothers from another mother. One short, one tall. One from the country, one from the 'burbs. Each the other’s biggest fan.
Jack’s cousin misses him terribly.
He and his mom sat at the counter sharing Jack stories, as my mind reeled with should have beens. I said to myself, “Jack never got to have a phone, or send a text, or go on a date! He never got to read the latest book in the Inheritance Series, which I already promised I’d buy him for Christmas. He’ll never get to ace his PSAT’s, be in a high school play or go to the freakin’ prom! He’ll never fall in love! He won’t even get to be a teenager! He’ll never get to sit around with his friends doing gross teenage guy things like using words like 'nut sack' or lighting their farts on fire. Never, Never, Never!”
Eyes filled with tears, I looked up at my nephew, who was still reminiscing, and I heard him say this to his mom:
“We loved looking at that book together. Jack thought it was so funny that the guy’s last name sounded just like “ball sack.”
So there IS that, I suppose.