Baby D steps it up

Baby D is the wild card of the family. Baby D is the one who still gets carried around at the age of five and receives more free candy, popcorn, and milkshakes than any child I have ever seen. My co-workers make over her like she's a precious gem, and the students at my school treat her like a celebrity.

I can look at all four of my kids and make a few predictions about what they will do over the next ten years. Mack Attack (14)struggles in school, is a solid athlete, and spends too much time talking to girls. Kenzer has a heart of gold, breezes through school, struggles in sports, and she aims to please. She is a father's dream. Young Pog is me reincarnated. He doesn't warm up to people too quickly, but when he does, you have a friend for life. He operates above the curve both athletically and intellectually. Pog wants to be good. He loves to win, and he will kick some ass when push comes to shove.

But what about Baby D? She is the cutest child I have ever seen...no bullshit. She's really that cute. She runs like a track star from trying to keep up with Pog since she could stand. But she doesn't seem to love sports. She has quick wit from verbal confrontations with Kenzer, but she's not a book worm. She has thick skin from having a 14-year-old brother who's just too cool, but she's not mean. She just takes it as it comes...usually with a smile.

Just recently, she's been showing more of an interest in hanging out with me (which I love). I have a Saturday (not every Saturday)tradition of waking up early and taking Pog to the donut shop to pick up donuts for the fam. It just happened that way, because he usually is the first rugrat to wake up on the weekends. I woke up a little late this morning, thanks to dinner guests and a bottle of rum. Baby D comes into the room and asks if she can go with me to the donut shop. I'm like,
"Of course you can go with me!"
"You want me to get my shoes on?"
"Yep, go get your shoes on and we will leave."

We get to the donut shop and I tell her that it's her job to pick the donuts. She nods calmly and I'm prepared to step in when she gets nervous. The woman behind the counter says, "Can I help you?" I look down at Baby D, and all of a sudden she opens her mouth and a voice comes out that I have never heard before. It's not the voice of a baby! It's assertive, polite, and articulate. It knows exactly what it wants and is very comfortable expressing it. I watch my youngest offspring, with a feeling of pride and shock.

"I would like two chocolate donuts with sprinkles please...and two strawberry. I would also like three glazed please..."

A woman at a nearby table chimes in and says, "She's so polite! We're working on that!" she says as she gestures towards her own kids. The woman behind the counter says, "mom and dad are doing a great job! Better than I did." Instead of basking in the moment, Baby D just continues ordering...just taking it as it comes.

It's a beautiful thing when your kids surprise you. Selfishly, it's also a beautiful thing when they surprise others. The thing with Baby D is that she never seems to surprise herself. It's like she already knows how everything is supposed to turn out.