My house is full of Tazie fans. Becky is the most outspoken, with frequent excited outbursts about how adorably deliciously precious her little sister is (complete with eager attempts to squish her cheeks). Susie is more practical, proudly pointing out Tazie’s intelligence and social qualities to her friends. Danny may not declare his love for Tazie to the whole world like his big sisters do, but he begs to get her up from her nap every day, and even though he’s also the one who fights with her the most, he seeks out her company and watches out for her. But Jimmy. Everything about Jimmy is nine-year-old boy who is all motorsports and chainsaws. But I often catch Jimmy peering over at Tazie and chuckling softly to himself. When he speaks to her, his voice gets lighter, kinder, and sillier. He slips her bits of his food (which is a huge sacrifice for a bottomless-pit-eater like him), and she returns the favor. He laughs at all her preschool-level jokes, gets excited about teaching her new concepts, and even occasionally compliments her outfits. Out of all the big kids, when I look at him with her, I can see glimpses of how he will be as a parent. Tender. Loving. Patient.
Tazie is so loved.
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