I got to babysit him last night while his parents went out on a much deserved date. He and I watched Cars, ate some snacks, laughed about stuff, and I let him read approximately seven extra stories because I flat out didn't want him to go to bed. He's polite and he's funny and he's smart and we had way too much fun together.
I get a real sense of dread when I have to leave family gatherings these days-something I didn't really feel in my twenties. But Garrett is going to get cooler and funnier and smarter and four days here and there of giving him a tube of dinosaurs and overdosing on Lightening McQueen doesn't really feel like it's going to be enough.
Confession: I was reading him a Bernstein Bears book that was his dad's (and mine, frankly I did not think through the fact that the first kids to HAVE kids would get all the stuff from Grandma's closet. Damn it.) and I had to stop and get my wobbly voice under control so Garrett wouldn't wonder why on earth Aunt Katie was crying about Sister Bear's first day of school. As we were reading I could actually remember my mother reading that book to me. Somehow the juxtaposition of my little girl memories of the book and the tiny guy in my lap asking me for one more story made for an all too real confirmation that time is just rocketing by faster than five year old me could ever have imagined.
For now I'll make due with Skype and Facebook and the one million or so photos I took in not very many days. I'm sure your kids/nephews/grandkids are cute and all but man, so far my family produces ridiculously good looking children.