Crazy

When I first used to go and watch Ken race, I had trouble identifying him as all the like-dressed cyclists flew by each lap. If it weren’t for the hair poking out of the helmet, I might have stood there the whole race failing to see the person I went to watch. Now, when Ken gets dressed for his rides, Nora knows he is about to go and starts to say bye bye. And when we see anyone on a bike as we drive around town she says, “DaDa” (or lately she’s been saying “Matt” since she knows Ken rides with Matt a lot).

The other morning Ken got dressed in his red riding “uniform” and went outside. I loaded Nora in the car for our morning errand and Uncle Ian rode up to the car window, dressed in the same “uniform” as Ken. Nora looked, waved and said, “Dada.”

One might think she just got confused since Uncle Ian was dressed in the same outfit as Ken. Maybe Nora was just having the same trouble I used to have at bike races. But really this stems from the larger problem Nora has with the times Ian and Ken are together.

It usually goes like this: Uncle Ian walks in the door. Nora stares and clings to me. Ian smiles his big friendly smile. He clearly sounds different than “dada.” But Nora stares and we can all see the wheels turning in her little head. Who is this guy that looks so much like my dad? How can there be two dada’s all of a sudden? Is this guy going to suddenly steal me away and pretend I’m his?

All of this prevents Nora from playing happily with Ian until some time has passed and those wheels in her mind have reassured her that her dad and Ian are two separate people.

And as Nora works this all out in her head, Uncle Ian smiles and laughs in his typical fashion. He took early dibs on the “Crazy” Uncle title. And as soon as Nora realizes just how crazy he is, she will be quick to welcome him instead of spending many minutes locked in her skeptical stare.