Bizzy and Uncle Awesome

Last weekend my sister and my niece, three year old Bizzy, came to stay with us for a few days. We had a good time just hanging out, chatting and watching the kids play. It's been several years since we've had someone that little living in our house so we sort of forgot some things, mainly how three year olds are the best people to keep your ego in check.

This visit Bizzy didn't bother with me to much, she was all about Uncle Awesome.

Mr. Awesome is a power lineman for the local hydro company. He is pretty proud of his career, as are most guys in this trade. I joke that they all have God complexes because they work so high off the ground and play with power, he says it's not a God complex it's just that they are all just that good.

So last Friday when Mr. Awesome came in the door, dressed in his grubby orange coveralls and Fire Resistant blue shirt and chore coat, Bizzy took one look at him and said, "You are a gas man?" Thinking that she meant that he worked for the natural gas side of the company, Mr. Awesome replied, "No, baby-girl, Uncle Awesome is a lineman. I climb poles."

"You work at co-op?" she asked. My sister burst out laughing and explained that Bizzy thought that Mr. Awesome pumped gas for a living. Deflated, Mr. Awesome said, "No Bizzy, Uncle Awesome does not work at the gas station." Bizzy took a step back from him, looked him up and down, wrinkled her nose and said, "You are very dirty," and walked away, completely unimpressed.

Fast forward a week to this morning, Mr. Awesome and I were leaving the house at the same time this morning and I mentioned to him that the van needs gas. Being the awesome guy that he is, he offered to follow me to the gas station and fill the van up for me.

I pulled up to the pump and rolled down my window as Mr. Awesome jumped out of his truck and walked over to the van. "Fill 'er up!" I joked. I watched him as he took the nozzle from the pump and started filling the tank,

"You know, " I said.

"Don't even say it!"

"I'm just saying, I can sort of see her point," I laugh.

He hung his head and started to laugh. This man who had just spent seventeen hours working through smoke and wind and snow at a barn fire, then patrolled miles of line in blizzard like conditions, this guy who went through four years of hardcore apprenticeship, years of roughneck on the job training and works in hazardous conditions daily looked down at himself, in his Hydro uniform, pumping gas and said, "Bizzy's right, I do look like a gas attendant."

There is nothing like the observations of a three-year old to humble you, give you perspective and make you laugh at yourself.

Off the Naughty List

Over Christmas break, this Random family spent a week at my parents house. Luckily, we have a very good relationship with my folks or ten people living in a four bedroom house for nine days would have been unbearable. As it was, the week seemed like an exercise in insanity some days, most days -- not the straight-jacket, gnashing of teeth, heavily medicated insanity but the more benign and gentle insanity that invites everyone to go happily mad together.

Because my brother-in-law works nights, my sister and their nearly three year old daughter, Bizzy, were also staying at my parents' place for the balance of the week. You already know my views on three year olds but I have to say Bizzy is the exception. The kid has a wicked sense of humour, loves to tease and is generally in a good mood. Lately though, Bizzy has been trying my sister's patience.

We were witness to a couple of melt-downs and more than a few power struggles between Bizzy and her parents. On evening in particular, my sister and Bizzy were duking it out upstairs while my mom and I were in the living room. We couldn't help but hear the exchange between them. After a few minutes of hearing Bizzy stubbornly cry that she was not going to obey and recognizing the growing frustration in my sister's voice my mom turned to me and said, "I want to go up there and rescue poor Bizzy!" I laughed and said, "I want to go up there to rescue poor Bizzy's mom!"

Eventually, my sister won.

The next day, I was in the family room with the kids. They had made a bit of a mess and I asked them to clean up before dinner. My kids whined and denied any part of the mess-making while Bizzy got up and quietly went about the room picking up toys and dropping them into the bin. Reluctantly, Mischief and Crafty helped her finish the job. When I deemed the room clean enough the kids took off to wreak havoc in another area of the house. Bizzy, with her short legs and toddler waddle wasn't quite as quick as the big kids and was left behind.

"Bizzy."

"What?"

"You did a good job cleaning up, thank you!"

She beamed back at me and rubbed the imaginary dust off her hands, "Then I'm off the Naughty List!" with that she toddled around the corner to join the other kids.

Yes, you are Bizzy, but pace yourself...Christmas is still 355 days away!