My great-nephew-slash-grandson turned one today, and to abate his older sister's horror at the idea that her baby brother was too young for a “real” birthday party, everyone met at McDonald's. McD's won out over other suggestions because it has a playground! and it was the one place Erin and Miko knew the kids wouldn't wind up whining to leave after twenty minutes. Fifteen minutes after getting there Toni and Kevin were in the playground, and luckily Rachel and Alex didn't mind watching them.

It beats, Rachel said with a perfected teenaged dramatic sigh, watching Travis mangle his chicken nuggets.

(As they wandered off, Char mused that it also beat watching Alex inhale two Big Macs, and she didn't want to contemplate how many fries he would consume before we left. She tried bribing the kids to keep them from actually eating anything there, but they're not stupid; they know when to take advantage, and there was no way she would forbid it if everyone was there for Travis's birthday.)

Travis is a kid that loves to eat, but give him a chicken nugget and he will sit there and methodically peel off the coating, set it aside, rip the nugget into several pieces, and then slowly eat it piece by tiny piece, saving the coating for last.

Give him a box with four nuggets, and you assure you're going to be there a while. Give him a few fries, and you have peace and quiet for at least forty five minutes.

He was into the third nugget when Kevin dropped onto the booth next to me, bemoaning the idea that he's gotten too old for the playground. It's not fun anymore, and it smells like pee. Toni came after him, begging him to go back and play, and he relented, but with a look that said You owe me for this.

From where I sat I could see Alex and Rachel sitting at a table in the playground area, side by side, practically leaning against each other, and I couldn't help but be struck by the realization that my sister and I would have been on opposite sides of the table, and if we'd actually touched, one or both of us would have been complaining about it. My kids were laughing together (probably about their parents) but I would have sat there in stony silence with my sister, watching whatever kid we were in charge of, and resenting that I had to be there in the first place.

My kids are already better people than I was at their age.

By the time Travis had finally finished eating, Kevin and Toni were done in the play area and ready for ice cream and cake; the birthday boy was more interested in feeding finger-smashed chunks of cake to his mother than he was in eating any himself. I have to give Erin credit, she never flinched, and that's one thing that used to mostly turn my stomach when the kids were little. Spit-riddled, finger-smashed, sticky cookies and Cheerios grossed me out and still do; she let him shove cake covered fingers into her mouth without blinking.

It never bothered Char, either, so I'm considering the possibility that it's a maternal thing.

On the way out to the parking lot I realized my niece, who is due in early May, looks like she's closer to 8 months along than 7, but I forgot that if you think something like that you should keep it to yourself, or the pregnant woman will swing her 50 pound purse at you while shrieking I am not having twins! It's just a big baby! Now, I didn't say anything about twins; I was considering that she was further along than supposed, but I think now she's doomed herself.

I kind of hope it's triplets, just because she actually connected with the purse, and smacked it into my still bruised ass.

In any case, Travis turned a year old today; he's making motions of wanting to walk, and as much as everyone wants to see him take those first steps, I know too well that once they get started, they just keep on going.