Jack is this lovely child who is my dad’s best friend’s grandson. He’s been at my Thanksgiving every year since the divorce. When he grows up, he might just be Ryan Seacrest. The first year I showed up for Thanksgiving, I’d been separated for about 8 months, and even if that seems like a long time, it wasn’t. I was still shell-shocked. He walked right up to me and asked two questions: (1) Where is your husband? And (2) When are you going to have your babies? That was 3 years ago when he was probably 7. Now he’s more like 10, and his already excellent (albeit blunt) social skills have really gotten impressive.
First, when I see him, he says, “Hello, Abby,” then gives me a hug. A little bit later, one of his other brothers says that Olivia (a 2 year-old cousin) can’t be outside without an adult. I say, “I’m an adult. I’m OLD!” Jack says, “What are you, 23?” I say that I’m 36, and then he tells me that I look very young for 36 and that I’m aging well and that probably when I’m 40, I won’t look any older.”
Later, he chose to sit next to me at dinner, which is a compliment in itself. Afterwards, he’s eating his mom’s cake and suggests I try some. He suggests a couple of times. I say, “Jack, you never have to worry about me eating.” His response: “You? You’re a rail!”
Where does he get this stuff?! Does he KNOW I weighed myself yesterday, only to find I’m at an all time high? Man, he’s hilarious. At first, you think he’s full of it, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. His mom said that even in Kindergarten, he’d tell the teacher that she had a nice shirt on, and apparently the teacher told his mom that actually, she WAS wearing a very nice shirt that day. He doesn’t compliment and then ask for something. That gift will take him FAR!
Jack said that everyone had to write what they are thankful for on the back of their place card. I think maybe he and I were the only ones that did it. Here’s the front of my card:
Here’s the back.
Here’s what he wrote on the back of his.
