Are These All Yours?
“Happy 12th Birthday tomorrow! You are getting older. Still I remember when I met you first, when you were 16 months old. I visited California and came to your house, and you, your parents, and I were in your kitchen. Your dad was holding you, so you were elevated way up high. Without saying words (because you couldn’t) but still making sounds, you bent over and pointed vigorously at my socks. We didn’t know what you meant, so your dad put you down on the floor. Standing on your own, you bent down and pointed out the seam that crosses the toes of one of my socks. I thought that that was so funny!”
Adapted from a text message at 6:58 PM CT on 14 Apr 2025
“Happy Birthday! I will share two more stories to celebrate. When you were maybe 4 years old, before your sister was born, one evening your parents and you were driving me home after we had eaten at Gott’s. I would always sit beside you in the back seat, you in your car seat. When we arrived, you noticed the unusual architecture of my apartment complex, it with a small number of units stacked askew. I said, ‘There are 8 apartments.’ You replied, competitive and maybe referring to imaginary toys at home, ‘I have 11 apartments!’”
Adapted from a text message at 8:34 AM CT on 15 Apr 2025
“Another evening your parents and you were driving me home from Gott’s. You noticed the steep driveway going underneath my apartment complex to the parking garage. Your dad asked you whether you wanted to see the driveway. So we all got out of the car, and you and your mom laughed at the sensation of being pulled, while walking, down the steep slope of pavement. Inside the small garage there were about 8 cars parked. Referring to your own sizable toy car collection at home, you exclaimed to me, ‘Are these all yours?’ I burst out with a laugh, your creativity surprising me.”
Adapted from a text message at 8:43 AM CT on 15 Apr 2025
“I remembered another story. Again before your sister was born, I had gone to dinner at your house. You were mad about cars, and I would give you toy cars like the Koenigsegg cars. (Your mom would give you well-constructed cars from Japan, and I could do that only once when I went to Japan myself!) You and I also watched on my phone, with limited permission from your parents, online videos of cars racing.
“That evening after dinner, we were sitting together on your sofa watching a Formula 1 race. At the end, a car started to spin and hit the wall of the racetrack. I gasped, saying, ‘He crashed!’ Quietly — pensively — you said, ‘No, he won.’ I disagreed with you, going home later still believing that I was correct about the incident. But the next day I realized that you were right, you having been unable to debate with an adult: The driver was doing a doughnut! I was proud of the certainty that you demonstrated at your young age.”
Adapted from a text message at 6:01 PM CT on 15 Apr 2025
“During my first visit to meet you, when you were 16 months old, you and I would sit in the back seat of your family’s car when everyone traveled together. Your car seat, and therefore you as well, faced backward. Your car seat was big, so I had little room to sit and would sit close to you. In this configuration, you looked up at me and I looked down at you.
“While your dad drove, with a vehement sound — but no words because you could not yet speak — you would point your arm around at objects of interest in the car and through the back window. Although not knowing your meaning, each time I affirmed you. I would nod my head and say, ‘Mm!’”
Adapted from a text message at 9:17 PM CT on 15 Apr 2025
“We used to play Uno together. For this story, I wish that I could remember your cards, because they excited you. Although so much younger than your opponent, you loved the strategy of the win. Once during a tight match, you finished the game with a one-two punch, discarding your last two cards in rapid sequence. You jumped from your kneeling position and ran from the family room, where we were, to the adjoining dining room to announce to your parents the logic of your two-step play. ‘It was so cool!’ you declared.”
Adapted from a text message at 9:27 PM CT on 15 Apr 2025
A— is having trouble thinking of five gifts for Christmas. She had thought of two and had three more to go. She listed for me who gives her the gifts — I not catching all the names — and her aunt gives her lots of “surprise” gifts as well.
It’s lovely that at Christmastime a child gets to be perplexed — and is not spoiled — by this kind of abundance. The child knows that she is surrounded by people who love her.
Adapted from a text message at 9:53 AM CT on 13 Dec 2025
When S— was extremely young, the card game “War” upset him. He would keep losing against me. His dad and I were unable to make him understand that the game lacks strategy. A win is predetermined by the shuffle of the deck.
A particularly distraught session caused him to break down crying. His dad failed to comfort him. Then I had an idea. I said, “S—, let’s change the game so that we can look at our cards beforehand”, that is, before each play. He agreed.
The game started to go better for him. He began to always win and was much happier. During “wars”, his hauls astonished him. He turned over kings, queens, and jacks. Continually I ran out of cards, and he would “donate” roughly half of his cards to me so that our games could go on.
After several months of this, he grew suspicious. He asked, “Are you being nice to me?” During an early game of this, he had told his dad, “Cammy changed the rules!” His dad responded, “That’s cheating!”
Adapted from a text message at 9:45 PM CT on 15 Apr 2025
