I (Don't) Wanna Hold Your Hand

Baby Brother is now a year older.

First off, I just want to take a moment and show off this amazing Perry the Platypus cake that Mom and Baby Sister made for him.

Second off, I'm proud to tell you that for his birthday Baby Brother received a Perry the Playpus t-shirt, a Perry the Platypus football, a Phineas and Ferb roller coaster set, and a stuffed platypus exactly like the stuffed platypus I wanted for my birthday two years ago except I asked for a blue one and he asked for a white. Clearly Baby Brother is a man after my own heart.

Lastly, I feel the need to express how much I hate it when Baby Brother gets older. Well, perhaps hate is the wrong word. I'm happy to celebrate each new year I've spent with him. I like him almost as much as I like Phineas and Ferb and/or hobbits.

I, however, very strongly dislike some of the things that stack up with each year that passes. Baby Brother gets taller. More sarcastic. He becomes more of a brother and less of a baby.

I don't feel entirely ready for that, but the metamorphosis is as inevitable as the tide. As inevitable as the end of summer. As inevitable as everything changing when the Fire Nation attacks.

I can try to fight it, though.

When I took Baby Brother to Target to look for a birthday present, he kept not holding my hand. Even a few months ago he held my hand all the time. At Disneyland he hardly let go of it. He would just step up beside me and grab my hand, and life was good. Just weeks later, however, not only would he not grab my hand, as soon as I tried to hold his he'd twist out of it within moments.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Baby Brother. You have to hold my hand. Otherwise I might lose you in this Target. Then you'll be stuck here. Then the next time I come, I might have forgotten about you and I won't recognize you. And then you'll never get home.

BABY BROTHER: You go to Target, like, every week. You won't forget about me in a week.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Well, maybe I won't go for a few months. It could happen.

BABY BROTHER: That seems unlikely.

My pride was severely wounded because a) What kind of genius-child says "that seems unlikely" at this age? Baby Brother, that's who, and with snarkiness while he's at it and b) He still didn't want to hold my hand.

Fine, genius-child I thought. I'll just hold my own hand!

It was not a fulfilling experience.