I Hate to Break it To You 

But it's not that amazing. That's what I have to constantly keep from telling my sister Janet. She flew in on Saturday with her 9 month old son Brandon for a visit. I've since been regaled with all sorts of stories of the amazing things that he has recently learned to do all by himself:

• Climb out of his high chair. He's like Houdini!


• Roll a toy car on the floor instead of just picking it up. I wonder when he'll start saying "Vroom vroom".


• Move a small piece of cereal from one hand to another. Apparently this is some sort of developmental accomplishment.

Now don't get me wrong. She has every reason to be proud of her child, and be excited with his development. That's what all parents do. It's the vigor and excitement with which she tells the tales that gets me... as if her child is the only one to have ever done these things. I just want to look at her and say, "Janet... every kid does these things. Get over it."

I'm reminded of a stand up routine... though I can't for the life of me remember who's it was. The comedian was complaining that parents often attribute small accomplishments that their child makes with what they'll be when he grows up. For instance, "Look, Johnny is playing with that toy car. He's going to grow up to be a race car driver. Look, Johnny is running! He's going to be in the Olympics!" to which the comedian said, "He's also drooling, maybe he'll be in the Special Olympics."

I know... I'm a terrible uncle.