First Words

Continuing with our weapon stories… I think I have enough for an entire series.

So, my nephew Devon is two-and-a-half and has essentially never spoken to me in his life.  I am not exaggerating.  He has barely acknowledged my existence and is pretty certain that to come into physical contact with me is quite possibly life threatening.  I call him Stone Cold Steve Devon.  He’s got quite the poker face.  A super cute one no doubt, but stone cold.

Over July fourth, during our mini-vacation in Avila, I made it my mission to break the Big D.  No more silent treatment.  No more feigned tolerance of my presence.

We.  Are.  Going.  To.  Be.  Besties.

I started by telling him I knew he couldn’t smile.  And that I was pretty sure he had no teeth.  

Yep, incapable of smiling.  No, no don’t you dare smile.  Doooooon’t do it.

Worked like a charm.  I mean really, how could he just continue ignoring charming, funny, irresistible Aunt Jaimie?  Jacob actually taught me this tactic.  When he was littler he was motivated by me telling him he couldn’t do something, “Mama, Mama, tell me I can’t put on my pajamas by myself.  Tell me I can’t do it.”

So we’re in Avila and I have successfully teased out several smiles and even some unbroken instances of eye contact.  That afternoon, I was sitting near the hot tub during a Granddad-induced squirt gun fight at the hotel pool.  All of a sudden I feel water hit me in the back.

And then I hear the very first words I’ve ever heard, directed at me, out of my dear nephew’s mouth, “I shoot Jaimie.”

And then he grinned.  A mischievous, all-knowing, I’ve been wanting to shoot you for years, grin.

Whaddaya know… the Big D does have teeth.