I Am Aunt Di-Di

I'm in Chicago, visiting my mom, sister, brother-in-law, and my too-adorable for words 2 1/2 year-old nephew, Jake.  I haven't seen Jake in over a year and he was hesitant when I came in the door, clinging a bit to my sister's shoulder.  That quickly went away as we went into the living room and he pulled out every one of his toys to show me.  After deciding I was worthy, I quickly became the "go to" person for Jake.  Dinner need putting on the table? Aunt Di-Di had to do it.  A toy to be played with? Aunt Di-Di must play.  Book to be read?  Only if it's read by Aunt Di-Di.  I admit, I totally loved the attention.  It makes you feel special to be wanted by a two year old.

Special that is, until it came time to check the diaper.  "Jake, did you go potty?" asked my sister.  "C'mere and let me see."

"No!  Aunt Di-Di," came the reply.

All my relatives--who have a mean streak to them--burst out laughing.  My gag instinct where poop is involved is well known among family.  But Jake stood in front of me and turned around and was patiently waiting (amid snickers from everyone) so I pulled his pants out, took a quick peek, tried not to faint, and said, "Yup, you're dirty."

"Aunt Di-Di do it," said Jake, meaning he wanted me to change his diaper.  (More laughter from the mean relatives).

But that's where Aunt Di-Di had to draw the line.  I managed to stay in the room, but couldn't really go near the bed where my sister, rolling her eyes at me, changed him.

I'm staying at my mom's, and the next morning my sister called me and said, "We made pancakes and Jake saved one for Aunt Di-Di."  I reported this to my mom who said, "What about a pancake for Ba?" (He insists on calling my mom "Ba."  We have no idea why.  But when he calls for her he yells, "Ba!  Ba!") "You've been replaced," I smugly informed her.

Last night I read him a story in bed as he cuddled next to me, then he sang "You are my sunshine" which is the song he sings before bed, then he said his prayers and went to sleep.  He is just too precious for words.

I still don't want one of my own, but I love being "Aunt Di-Di."