Back when he was about five, my nephew D learned how to wink – I think Grandpa B taught him. Every time I saw him for the next few months after he developed this important life skill, we had a conversation that went something like this:
D: Auntie Sarah, can you wink?
Me: Yes, D, I can. [demonstrate by winking]
D: What about the other eye? Can you wink the other eye?
Me: Yep! [winking the opposite eye]
D: That’s really good. [excited pause] You know what?
D: DADDY CAN’T WINK! He does this… [squeezes both eyes shut]
Me: Really? Does he know?
D: Yes! I told him!
Brian: [rolling his non-winky eyes] Yes, D… You’ve told me a thousand times now. I know.
Several years have passed and now G, little brother to D, has picked up the winking bug. I found this out on Friday, when he wanted to do winking pictures at the Washington Monument. Given that this was an improvement over his earlier photo request (“Take a picture of my butt! Please! Butts are funny!”) I quickly gave in, as Jen laughed, shook her head, and took a few photos.
I didn’t find out until after we were done why she was so amused:
Yup. Winks just like his dad.