All week I was seething with jealousy. My mom told me my nephew, my sister's kid, could speak Chinese. He is a year younger than my daughter to the day. According to my mom, they were teaching it to him at his school and he could communicate with some women at a Chinese restaurant they had gone to.
I casually asked my sister about it when we were buzzed with sugar from Michimu's birthday at the Miami Children's Museum. They had served cake three times that day and we attended each celebration.
"Chinese?" she said during a break from using her stern voice to tell the kids to stop standing on the chairs. "He doesn't speak Chinese."
"Mom said he did."
"Maybe he said sushi or something, but that's Japanese and sold at CVS."
I didn't want to ask her about his two-digit subtraction, multiplication skills, science proficiency, geography precocity, myth recitation, and ability to write down dozens of words that begin with the letter "A". In comparison, my daughter wrote down 15 or so words, most of which were names of friends, and called it a day.
Apparently, my nephew doesn't speak fluent Spanish either which is also something grandma said in a way that could not be considered "alluded to".
My other sister's girls (one year and two and a half years older than mine) play violins in an orchestra.
They can play a competent game of chess and create wondrous things from Legos.
One is headed for the Olympics in swimming. The other is pitch-perfect. They speak perfect Spanish and have highly developed computer skills.
There's more, there's always more.
My daughter, my mom tells me, is a work in progress.
If my mom is not talking to me.
Then my daughter is fabulous too. From what I heard, my daughter is so amazing, according to my mom, I hardly recognize her myself.
I hope you all wished your grandparents Happy Grandparents Day this past Sunday. My mom had it on her calendar.