For those of you who do not know – Cashel is my nephew. He just turned 6. He is here for Christmas.
It took me 24 hours to stop trying to hug him at every opportunity (as he tried to wriggle away) – It took me 24 hours to basically accept his presence, and not try to attack him.
I pretended to eat him at one point. I tried to scoop out his brains “like an avocado”. I made ridiculous “yum-yum” noises, as Cashel writhed about in hysterical laughter. Then he began to nibble on my arm, trying to make “yum-yum” noises, only he was laughing too hard.
He is obsessed with Harry Potter. His entire life is Harry Potter. And here’s the amazing thing: he has read none of the books yet, and he has seen none of the movies. His parents have struck a deal with him: once he finishes all the books (he is only 6, remember) – he will be allowed to see the movies.
This has filled Cashel with anticipation and ambition.
He will inform me, “My mom and dad told me I have to finish the books first.”
He accepts the rules.
His friends must have told him all about Harry Potter, however, because Cashel knows all the characters, all the events, all the bad guys, all the good guys. He knows the rules of Quidditch.
I certainly hope the books won’t be a let-down when he finally reads them!
I asked him, at one point, “So, Cash-man, have you finished any of the Harry Potter books yet?”
He was busy with something else. He said seriously, “No. I haven’t accomplished that yet.”
“A-ha. I see.”
I have put together numerous very elaborate Star Wars and Harry Potter lego set-ups. I make Cashel find the little pieces for me, so he can feel like he put the damn thing together.
I peek in at him while he’s sleeping – and see his flushed face, hear his heavy sleepy breathing, his little hands – and I feel like I am going to burst into a million pieces.
We trimmed the tree on Christmas Eve (the Advent Police would be proud) – There is a box of ornaments from the attic – all of stuff that we all made when we were little kids. They are great – it is like they are members of our family.
There’s a big shiny green pear – which is mine. I put that one on every year.
There are little wooden ornaments, painted by all of us when we were little.
There are little felt animals, made by my mother when we were kids.
It’s kind of incredible – also paper chains (now faded into greyish tones – it used to be red and green and blue) put together by us when we were kids.
And there’s the Cash-man, in his pjs, reaching his hand into the box from the attic, taking out an ornament, an ornament made by one of his aunties, or by his father, when they were his age. A continuum. The continuity of family.
We sang Christmas carols. I loved hearing Cashel’s wee voice, chiming in, as he rummaged around for more ornaments.
“We three kings of orient are…”
He’s a good little boy. I love to hear his chattering voice, all about the house.
