– Time For A Tiara: Column by Ginna Young – - Who needs a flashlight, with him around!

It’s been a dark time lately, both on the national level and personally, on the local front. So, with that in mind, I thought you all could use a good laugh.

You’ve heard me speaking often, of my little pal, Warren, who is now a whole seven years old. I’ve been part of his life since his mom, my co-worker and bestie, came over to my desk, in late November 2017, and informed me she thought she was pregnant.

I knew that she and Joe were trying to have a baby, but when it actually became a reality, I was over the moon. Although she wasn’t very far along, I named the unborn baby my little Smoochie, which has stuck. Maybe if he plays sports, that’ll be on his sports jersey.

Sorry, Smooch. Anyway, it was hard to wait, but at long last, her delivery date drew near. Only a month to go! Then, I got a call early one morning at the end of June, and surprise, surprise, my little Smoochie was already here! I guess he just couldn’t wait to make his mark in the world. He came so fast, there was no time to call me.

I was actually supposed to be in the delivery room, taking photos, but it didn’t work out that way. Of course, I wanted to go see that little guy right away, but had other commitments. Finally, that long day was done and I timidly knocked on the maternity ward room door.

See, whenever I’ve been to see a new mom and a newborn baby, things are very different. Normally, the mother has been in labor for many hours, and is extremely tired. Warren came so fast, they barely made it to the hospital.

So, I knocked and whispered, “Hey.....” Joy, who I expected to be on the bed, laying there tiredly, was sitting up, fully clothed (well, fully pajamaed) and responded brightly, “HEY! I had a baby!!” She pointed to the bassinet across the small room.

I threw the gift basket I had on the bed (chips, candy bars, soda) and snatched up the baby. I’d waited many long months for this, and was just the second person besides his mom and dad, and the doctor/nurses to hold him.

“Hi, my little sweet potato pie,” I crooned and yes, that is also what I call him. And while Joy insists it was gas, Joe and I knew that Warren recognized his Ninna’s (Aunt Ginna) voice, because even though he was too sleepy to keep his eyes open, he smiled. At that moment, my world lit up and has burned brightly ever since. I turned to Joy, with tears in my eyes.

“Oh, Joy, he’s just perfect!”

When I’ve told someone in the past how beautiful or perfect their baby was, I usually hear a quiet, “Thanks, I think he/she is pretty great,” along with a proud smile. Not Joy.

“Oh my gosh, she got us Funyuns!!!” Joy kind of had a one-track mind, after eating hospital food. All this tickles Warren to no end, when I retell him about the day he was born.

Anyway, it’s been so much fun to watch him grow and learn. I do wish he wasn’t quite so independent though; right from the start, he’s been able to do so much on his own or wanted to do it all himself, and I’d really liked to have babied him a little bit more.

However, he is very stubborn. For example, even though we all worked with him, he refused to speak. Maybe a few gibberish words here and there, like when he was really small and enjoyed going, “I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I.”

Still, he wouldn’t say much and by the time he was three, he still hadn’t said a complete sentence. I’d ask him, can you say, “I love Ninna?” He’d smile slyly, like, well, I could, but I don’t want to.

Finally, he decided it was time to really start speaking.

His decision came when was he three and a half, when we had a birthday party for Joy. We ate, she opened her gifts and we sang the traditional birthday song to her. Through the song, Warren stood by the table, with my little blue stuffed llama crooked in his left arm, just staring.

That’s unusual for him, because he would always at least sway along when we sang. Now, when we finished wishing Joy a happy birthday, I turned to him and said accusingly, “You didn’t sing, why didn’t you sing?”

Without missing a beat, he put his tiny right hand palm up in the air and said clearly, “I just don’t have it in me.”

We laughed so hard, we couldn’t stop. It remains the funniest thing he’s ever said, even though he’s non-stop fun and is always saying something hysterical.

Well, a few minutes later, we found out why “he just didn’t have it in him.” It became apparent he was over-tired, after Joy told him to get ready to head home.

Throwing his head straight back, he sobbed out, “Buuuuuttttt....I’mmmm....nooooottt....... READDDDYYYYY!!!!!” His words were punctuated by gasping for air, since he wouldn’t bring his head back down to breathe.

Joy was unmoved and told him they were going. He continued to cry, just not as dramatically. Then, I told him to put my little llama back where he found it.

And...repeat throwing head back and sobbing.

“Buuuuutttt........I’llll............MIIISSSSS..... iiiittttttttttt!!!!!!!!”

Somehow, Joy got him bundled up in his coat and hat, and carried him out to the truck, still wailing, but without said llama. I think he was asleep before the car seat belt clicked into place.

That is only one of many instances where he was so funny. I could fill volumes and volumes of books, just on his adorable antics, his facial expressions and the things he’s said. He actually gets more fun every single day, and has the best sense of humor. He kind of has to, to be around his Ninna.

As he likes to tell people, “She has the best jokes!”

I hope all this has made you laugh and maybe brought a bit of light to you, the way he does to all of us. In dark times, we can all use a little light in our world.