There was a knock on the door yesterday and when Duncan and I opened it, Dunc was shocked to discover his grandma and Aunt Casey waiting for him on the other side. His love of my mother is astounding considering he's only spent a couple of holidays with her, although I suspect much of it is driven by their initial introduction when she got him hopped up on turkey and kept him in a tryptophan-induced haze for much of that first Thanksgiving. From that moment on Duncan has been her number one fan and she has been just as devoted to him. When he discovered her at the door there was a moments pause followed quickly by wild and ecstatic celebration as he danced circles around her and pulled her into the apartment by her shirt, mauling her with kisses punctuated by his high-pitched bird-like chirps. The two days since have been bliss for Dunc, who has lead her to believe he never receives any attention whatsoever, as if his every need isn't met by yours truly, and demands she spend every spare moment playing with him.
When we decided to drive downtown this evening to take Casey to Coors Field (apparently she's a crazy Rockies fan), Duncan had no problem at all sharing the backseat, which is typically his domain and his alone, with Mom. With the windows rolled down and the 102˚ air blowing through the car, he perched right up next to her and grinned ear to ear. And Mom, being Mom––and Grandma––was just as pleased to be sitting next to him.
It is good to have my family here. And good to know they love him as much as I do. I am blessed on many counts.