There are about 187,000 Americans with Leap year birthdays. My uncle is one of them. Today, in the style of our big fat Puerto Rican family, we celebrated his 15th birthday. The wine flowed, and the food was amazing. There was even a homemade cake by my cousin/comai. But the best part, in my bizzaro opinion, is the family.

Now that Little G is old enough to interact with other kids, it’s really fun to watch her fearlessly waltz over to someone she’s never met, and just…play. Don’t you wish you could be more like a two year old? I mean, the kind that poops in a potty…I don’t need any jelly bricks thanks. I’m serious. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if we could just walk up to a group of people we’ve never met, reach out smack and elbow and declare “Tag you’re it” before running off? Or sit at the bar and ask, “What’s your favorite candy?”

When did we get so…uptight? Why isn’t okay to waltz into a group of people and join in the conversation? And why the heck aren’t there places for us to cut loose with a beer and a ball pit? And why hasn’t someone invented a sanitary ball pit?

I digress. The point is that one of my cousins recently brought her own little man into the world. They call him the Little Fighter. I had told Little G that she was going to see her cousin tonight, so when Little Fighter showed up, she was pretty stoked. She insisted upon being put down, and tried to push her way between Little Fighter and his mom, who was trying to take his bunting off. In all the hub-ub I could see Little G take Little Fighter’s tiny hand in her own, and shake it. She said, “Hi I’m Little G…I’m your cousin”.

It was heart meltingly amazing. She really thought that this tiny little baby was going to be hers to carry around and play with for the rest of the night. I stood close by, and when she was a little more aggressive than I’d be comfortable with a toddler exerting over my own two month old, I stepped in. I just was left with a really great feeling about the kind of big sister Little G will be one day.