Old Man Johnston

My older brother and I are two years apart almost to the day.  In my early years I called him Uncle Kent, which is ridiculous I guess but he must have requested it of me at some point and I obliged for years.  In many ways calling him uncle makes sense as he was an old soul, which displeased me from time to time.  Instead of Spider man for Halloween, he dressed as a Revolutionary War solider.  We spent our days foraging in the woods for salamanders and climbing on a giant rotting tree, we aptly named Big Ben.  He led my friends and I in a nature club.  We did activities like making grain into flour and using tea berries to make hot tea.  This was of course led by my mother the Girl Scout leader. She a role in all this wholesome fun, of which much I enjoyed on a day to day basis.  However, when on vacations as a young child and we had to go to museums to research how the troops moved into battle or how the ducks had migrated south, I was less than pleased.  I would have rather been on roller coasters or splashing down super tall water slides.  

Fast forward thirty plus years later and my brother is all grown up teaching Social Studies, of course.  I have two of my own children not quite three years apart.  The older one is the boy and younger one a girl.  Cole is eerily becoming like his real live uncle Kent.  He dressed as an American Indian for Halloween this year.  Yesterday when discussing what he would be for the famous person dress up day at school, he decided he would like to be the Statue of Liberty. I am not my mom , so this won't happen. Instead I will probably slap a tie on him and call him President Obama.  This morning I asked him what he would like for breakfast and he asked if I had any porridge. Who do I look like Mama Bear?  Then a few moments ago I heard him calling Pa Pa where are you?  I asked what are you saying?  Oh he replies Pa is another name for father.  Old Man Johnston for sure, maybe Cecily will start calling him Uncle Cole.