He gets the best of my love...

As I sit on my couch, trying to get comfy with this wretched bad back, about to eat a white bread Dorito sammie, my thoughts inadvertently turn to the other Sammy.  Those who know me best know all about him.

My nephew.  This is why my thoughts turned there.  I have always loved inappropriate snacks on white bread.  Rashuns, burger rings, twisties, you name it, carbs on carbs is a decadent treat as far as I am concerned.  On one occasion, Sam and I were sitting down for lunch with my Mum.  Sam has always been fascinated with whatever I am eating.  I fondly remember him devouring my take away dinner from my fav Turkish place.  I barely got a forkful of my kebab on rice.  He had just had his own dinner and his parents found it hilarious that he ate all of mine.   

Anyhoo, on this particular day I believe that my Mum was watching in horror as I put together a rashun sammie on some of the freshest white bread and was about to bite into it, when a small voice said – Nicca, why are you having chips on bread?  Because its yummy, I replied.  And that was the end of the conversation.  Now I love my nephew, in fact I adore him.  He has been spoilt by me since he took his first breath.  But this is how I can tell that he gets the best of my love.  I had one bite of this sandwich left, and bear in mind that I tend to leave the best till last, and this small voice says, Nicca, can I have that bit?  I look up and my Mum is in stiches, cause she knows my food habits, down to the fact that I often smile at food before it goes into my mouth.  Part disarming the food – don’t worry this won't hurt a bit, and part smiling cause I know how good its going to taste.  I hesitate for a second, and then willingly hand over the best bit of this lovingly prepared sammie to my Sammy.

In fact over the years I have given up much for Sam.  Many nights have I babysat him.  One of my fondest memories was a night when I was living with my best friends, after leaving an unhappy home.  We had dinner with his Mum and had a spa afterwards.  Then his Mum and Dad had gone out.  We sat on the couch with a roaring fire, a pack of Tim Tams between us, and Night at the Museum on the tele.  Except Sam said it Mus-e-asum.  We had a blanket over us and he was fascinated with the fire but knew that he was not allowed to go near it.   A few weeks earlier I had taken Sam to the Auckland Museum and we had seen an elephant called Raja and he had the living daylights scared out of him in the earthquake simulator.  He loved that movie.  He kept pointing and telling me to look when there was something amazing happening.  At first he kept looking at me when he took a biscuit, but after a while he helped himself.  He got that DVD for his next birthday and played it constantly for a while.

That night we had to share a bed.  He looked at my luxurious huge pillows and his small one and demanded the bigger ones.  He accepted my explanation that my head was bigger and we settled down into bed.  He was out like a light and the next morning I had to wake him when I went to work.  When I was getting ready I put him in front of Monsters Inc and he was rapt.

Man, I miss that little guy.  He is the one who named me Nicca, and it kinda stuck.  He could not say Nicola.  In fact when he did it nearly broke my heart.  I will always be his Nicca.  He kinda remembers when I lived at home.  Kinda.  He remembers that Nicca liked to take me to the zoo.  He has the seen the photo of me and him under that iron elephant a million times.  He remembers the walks that we used to take.  I hope that he remembers me playing soccer with him nearly two years ago.  I hope that he remembers the endless cuddles.  Like the book that my Mum got him about Aunty Elsie who smothered her nephew with love and kisses. 

I laugh when I remember the day that I gave him a Maisy mouse desert plate.  He was so excited that he was jumping up and down.  My brother was a bit perplexed by the whole exchange.  We ate icecream from it pretty much straight away.  Him on my knee, we would have a large bowl of icecream, with sauce and sprinkles.  One for me, one for him.

Re-reading this now I almost feel that I should apologise to my sister – if your child has some strange/unhealthy food habits, I feel that they might be my fault.

Man, I miss that child.