If The Shoe Fits

At first glance, Dane looks exactly like his father.  His deep brown eyes, tan skin, short stocky legs, and long torso are Jonathan reincarnate.  Although if you look at my baby pictures, there is certainly some similarity.

It was difficult to find a photo where we were about the same age, but if you've ever actually met Dane, there is certainly a resemblance.  This was my first Christmas.  I was 9 months old.

Sorry, Dane.  It looks like you might have inherited my nose!

Even though there is no denying who my baby daddy is, there's plenty about him to remind me he has half of my genetic material.  He has a temper.  He likes things exactly his way.  He's easily annoyed.  He loves a routine.  He hates to be hot like Cleveland hates LeBron.  He's me.  I realize that a lot of this is typical 2-year old stuff.  What toddler doesn't throw a fit when lunch is late, right?  But my parents, who raised three kids, agree.  Something is just different about the way Dane does things.  And every time they watch him play (lining up trucks, sorting things by color and size, insisting the trash be put in the trash can immediately), they are in amazed at just how much he is exactly like I was.  

My parents always laugh when they tell me I knew how to tie my shoes before I was potty trained.  (Granted, I wasn't potty trained until 2 1/2.)  Apparently, no one did it "right."  So, my parents gave up and told me to do it myself.  And I did.  Well, this weekend, I told Dane to put his shoes on so we could go outside.  I figured he could start the process and I would finish it up.  He plopped down on the floor with his shoes, stated "Dane do it" and put them on.  The right feet.  The right way.  No adjusting needed.  Ok, little dude.  Do your thing.