Really, I swear. But I have to start with a story about Lee.
So you know when Lee and I first met we were not fans of each other, right? And when I say we were not fans of each other, I mean he was not a fan of me.
I know you’re thinking to yourself: WHO IS NOT A FAN OF SUZ? But believe me, such people exist. And Lee was once one of them.
So I set about finding out how to make him a fan of me. That was back when I cared if people liked me– a habit of which, in my old age, I have now mostly divested myself.
Turns out, there was a secret*. Once I knew the secret, we were instant friends.
See? This is us, 1997. Plaid was in then, I promise. Hawaiian shirts were never in.
Anyway, the secret* was that Lee needs to be loved up to. These are not my words. I’m just repeating what I was told. I wasn’t sure quite what that meant, but the next time I saw him, I probably greeted him with something like Hiiiiii, LeeeeeEEeee! instead of my generic Hey, what’s up clown? And a friendship was born. The rest you already know about.
So anyway, back to Tucker.
I spent most of his first few months wondering if I had the crankiest baby on Earth. Especially after Bo, who would laugh at anything in that sweet way he has, where first he’s laughing, and then you’re laughing because he’s laughing, and then he’s laughing more because you’re laughing and then suddenly Mommy’s crying because she loves his laugh and– well, you know. It happens.
But Tucker. He smiled a little starting around six weeks, but it was ambiguous enough to make you think that maybe it was still gas. And then around four months I could wiggle his little toes up near his lips and he would sort of giggle, but it was short lived and honestly sort of hard to get super excited about.
And then I noticed: he reserves his biggest smiles– the big, dimply smiles– for old ladies in grocery stores. You know the ones. They lean over his carseat and say Look at you! Aren’t you a precious one! Yes you are! I want to take you home with me! Yes I do! Oh look at those eyes! I could eat you up!
And Tucker would take it all in with the biggest grin on his face. Even with a paci in his mouth you could see his ginormous dimples and know: he needs to be loved up to.
So I’ve written that down in my little book in my head of Tucker knowledge. The rest we’re still figuring out.
*Now, ladies. Do not attempt to use this knowledge against me. He is taken taken taken. That goes for Tucker, too, grocery store ladies and girl babies!