The Tota Man

Little brother is a very entertaining four year old. We always joke about what an old man he is. He takes his sweet time doing anything and is ever so careful doing tasks that most would rush through. If he’s getting into a car he slowly walks up to the door, which I will open for him, he never forgets to say thank you and if he is wearing a hat such as a fedora he will tip it at me. Then he will place one foot on the step up to get in. He then must grab the door handle, check that it is sturdy before he proceeds to actually step up and get his other leg in. You would think ‘oh he’s finally aboard!’ But no he then must settle into his seat, wiggle a little and take note of anything in the car so he can point it out. By the time I put his seatbelt on it’s been almost ten minutes. I have learned to begin the process ten minutes or so in advance so I don’t end up rushing him and catching a lecture from the littlest old man in Akwesasne. When its time for bed everything is about routine. He must first put on his comfy pajamas before he brushes his teeth. He only likes certain kinds of socks and is picky about his pants. If he could, he would eat steak and potatoes every day. I asked him why he only likes that and he said, “because I’m a tota man.”