Texas-sized fun

He called him Uncle "Mack." And apparently, Uncle Mack is the greatest thing since sliced bread as far as our little boy is concerned.

We've known Caleb was a "guy's guy," preferring the company of his dad and granddads to that of myself and his chatty sister, but the way he attached himself to Uncle Matt was unique. When we got him out of his crib in the morning, he wanted Uncle Matt. At mealtimes, he needed to sit next to Uncle Matt. And it was Uncle Matt who was commissioned time and time again during his weekend visit to build trains ("Mack! Choo choo!"), read books ("Mack! Book!"), and push him on the swing for what seemed like hours.

But the best moments were at bedtime. After Matt read the kids Bible stories, Justin and I would take Caleb to his room and put him down in his crib like we always do. And as we turned out the lights and pulled the door shut, we could hear the frantic voice of our tuckered out son pleading, "Maaaaaaaack! Maaaaaack! Night-night Maaaaaaack!"

We informed the off-duty uncle that he had one more task to complete before he could retire for the evening. And just as soon as Matt had entered Caleb's darkened room and said a hushed "good-night," all was quiet.

Caleb spent the first few days after Matt departed rushing into the guest room each morning looking for his buddy. "Mack? Mack?" he'd chant as he looked all around the bed, in the closet and under the night table. "Mack? Mack?"

With Uncle Matt nowhere to be found, eventually I could convince Caleb to come downstairs for breakfast, where the routine repeated itself as he searched every corner of the kitchen.

After a couple of days had passed, Caleb finally resigned himself to the idea that Matt had left. Or maybe he just thinks he's found a really great hiding spot.