When Kevin heard that Monday would be my birthday, and he said, “I hope there will be cake.”
Kevin is our 5-year-old nephew who’s been living with us for the past few months. I suspect some of our lifestyle choices have been confusing to young Kevin.
For example, the fact that he used the phrase “I hope” rather than taking for granted the presence of birthday cake showed his realization and understanding that he has been living with people totally beyond his comprehension. It’s as if he was dumped into a house full of coneheads from France who haven’t yet grasped the most important features of American life. “I hope there will be cake,” he says. In his mind, it would be inconceivable to have a birthday without birthday cake. That is, until now.
I said, “You know, Kevin, I don’t care for cake all that much. I would rather have birthday apple pie.”
“But I was hoping for some birthday cake.”
“But is it my birthday. You can have cake for your birthday … in six months.”
Well, Sunday after church – where he behaved very well and successfully survived big church sitting next to his grouchy uncle – Kevin asked, “Uncle Berry, is this a restaurant day?”
“Yes, we are going with friends to McAlister’s.”
“Is that where I always eat racanoni and cheese?”
“Yes, it is.”
When the server brought our Fiesta Chicken Wraps and Kevin’s macaroni and cheese, Cyndi deftly palmed the package of Teddy Grahams from the tray before Kevin saw it. It was good to know she still has her touch. Kevin asked me, “Uncle Berry, will you open my package of chips?”
“Sure; after you eat ten bites of macaroni and cheese.”
He looked a bit downcast, and asked, “How about four bites?”
“How about eight bites?”
“How about four?”
“You don’t understand negotiating, do you? How about you eat all of it and then I will open your chips?”
“OK, how about eight bites.”
Kevin actually ate his eight bites, even though he first tried to sneak past us by counting individual pieces of macaroni instead of complete bites. Cyndi was on to his tricky ways immediately. I said, “Kevin, Aunt Cyndi is a professional teacher and kid wrangler. You can’t slip something like that past her.”
Much to our surprise he ate all his macaroni and cheese and all his chips. And he was so happy to know there were Teddy Grahams for desert. Then, on our way out of the restaurant as we got our obligatory drink refills for the long ride home, Kevin noticed a plate of giant delicious-looking individually-wrapped chocolate chip cookies. He looked up at Cyndi and said, “I think they have cookies for children who eat all their food.”
Cyndi said, “No, that’s what the Teddy Grahams were for.”
Kevin looked over at me for help and I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Nice try.”
Later that Sunday evening we went to the AXIS worship service at our church. Kevin looks forward to this because they serve flavored sodas with ice and whipped cream (which he calls pudding). He successfully drank all the liquid out of his cup before knocking it over on the floor. I helped him clean it up and threw away the cup, but Kevin kept his bendy straw, which he immediately converted into a handgun. That kept him occupied for awhile until he discovered he could stick the straw in his nose and it would stay there by itself. I was actually proud that he’d made one of the more useful discoveries of a young boy’s life so I let him play with the straw in his nose until I realized he was distracting the college girls sitting behind us. I didn’t want this to turn into an ugly distraction, so I took his straw and stuffed it into my pocket.
Kevin, feeling sad, put his head down on the table next to Aunt Cyndi’s MacBook, on which she was recording the service for her podcast, and went to sleep. He didn’t move again for the next 15 minutes. I think he was dreaming of birthday cake. One can only hope.
