Thank you, Katie, for reminding me to write about the week we had a shark at our house!
|Moose & Shark - Lower Broadway, Nashville|
"Moose", if you don't know, is what I call my sister, Molly. I have no idea why we call her Moose but we have for most of her life.
|me & my Moose|
"Shark" is the nickname my nephew Jack earned while he was visiting because of his habit of dive bombing people's faces teeth first.
"He's a very passionate little guy," my sister would say as she popped a stick in his mouth to dislodge his jaw from whoever was gnawing on at the time. Okay, not really. But he did have quite the appetite for flesh! Then she'd sing a little song she wrote that goes, "I gave birth to a human shark. What am I to do?"
|Shark attack @ Robert's Western World!|
It should be noted that my sister was EXACTLY the same way when she was little. We have a photo my mom took at a play group when Moose was about 5 months old. All the babies are propped up on a couch side-by-side - there must be 10 of them - and they're all looking docile and sweet. Except for Moose who is leaned all the way over giving the baby next to her a full on hickie.
It should probably also be noted that at the time of Jack's visit his little world had been completely flipped upside down. The only home he'd ever known had been packed into a moving truck. His dad and his dog were still in Reno. His flight to Nashville included an unexpected layover at an airport hotel in Chicago. He was experiencing firsts like humidity, honky tonks and fireflies. His Aunt Maggie kept making him get nekkid in the backyard with his cousins. And he was getting all four molars at the very same time...
Despite all that, we still loved having Moose and Jack at our house. And having them a hop, skip and a jump from Nashville for all of the foreseeable future? Ah-mazing.