Little boys grow up in a hurry

By Staff
Leada Gore, Editor
Readers: The following column was printed July 24, 2003. My nephew Isaac is now eight and Collier is five. Collier, too, has started to outgrow me.
July 24, 2003
Back when he was younger, my nephew Isaac liked to spend time with me. We would play, yell at the top of our lungs and get in trouble. I was the one who bought him the drum set and anything else I could find to make noise.
We were partners in crime.
That was then.
This is now.
Isaac celebrated his sixth birthday last weekend at a water park in Huntsville. Six-years-old doesn't seem that old. I would still consider him "little." He, however, does not.
I arrived at the party with his present wrapped up in bright yellow paper with a silver bow. I expected him to come running up, excited to see both me and the present. Instead, I had to search for him among a throng of children.
"Here, let me open my present," he said in a rush. He took the box, tore off the paper and looked inside.
"OK," he said, handing the box off to him mom. "Thanks."
OK? No squeals of excitement that I am the greatest aunt ever? No playing with the Pokemon keychain that I looked everywhere to find? And what about the computer games? The box said they were made for big boys and Isaac's now a big boy, right?
Before I could get the words out, Isaac was gone. He was a big boy all right – too big to hang around his dorky old aunt.
Isaac had his cool surfer shorts on and a shell necklace like I had seen on teenagers. He had his hair fixed like a big boy and was running around with his friends.
Isaac had his birthday at the same water park last year. Then, he wanted someone to go with him as he went down the water slides. This year, all he wanted was his friends.
"He didn't even want me to go with him," my brother said.
I sat and watched him as he careened down the slippery slopes, watching his childhood slip away as quickly as he was going by on that bright innertube.
Issac is growing up.
"I'm about to leave," I yelled out to him. "Come give Aunt Le-Le a hug."
He looked over the shoulder at his friends.
"Bye. See you later," he said, not bothering to come over and give me an actual hug.
As I turned and walked away, I spotted Isaac's baby brother, Collier. He's a tiny thing and the only thing poking out of his big beach towel was his wet head. I picked him up and gave him lots of hugs and kisses.
Collier is 3. And I intend on keeping it that way.