My nephew Mitch looks, well, a terrifying amount like me. This is none too surprising, as he very much takes after his father, and his father and I both take after our father to an insane degree. When out in public, there is absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind of familial relation amongst us.

This has an interesting side effect for me in particular, as I fancy myself more empathetic (empathic? is that a real or sci-fi word? empathetic sounds like a dig.."highly characterized by empathy," how's that) than my brother, and I believe my nephew is the same way.

This is unfortunate in that when he is unhappy, as children can get, in a whole-body sense - where their whole WORLD is invested in something, and I don't mean getting a toy or going to McDonald's, but still something we adults ordinarily take in stride - he makes this face of utter agony. It's cute and it makes me feel better about how I am still like a kid in that regard sometimes, if in the right mood, but more often than that, it absolutely kills me. It does so because I know that face. He may be inconsolable because his best friend just inadvertently popped his mom in the face by turning around too fast, and in the adult world, accidents are accidents, no harm done, it's already forgiven. However, in that face I can see how I feel in moments of utter betrayal and anguish, and it absolutely cuts me to, I dunno, something far more squishy and vulnerable than bone.

This is what I feel like on the inside when I am happy. I may be tired or miserable, but there are certain things the people I love can do that, at least on the inside, make me feel exactly like that in one of those "picture's worth a thousand words" kinda ways. Anybody who's seen me glowing from being in love or having been indulged in a supremely geeky event with complete acceptance and even affection knows my current, adult version of that face. My version is, of course, tempered by "adulthood," and though I still dip into this mode more than your average adult, little is felt as full-body as it was when you're a child. Having a digitally encoded version of that to look at whenever I want almost entirely balances out all the times the other thing happens.

That pic was taken yesterday after a family dinner at a restaurant where he talked almost exclusively to me and his mom. Oh, and stole his grandpapa's croutons. It's strangely fun despite the unfairness to see how my dad is with the kids, as I cannot imagine the wrath had I tried to steal a crouton. Every now and then, the mirrored lake of nothing that is my dad shows a lil somethin. Nice.

I was lying before.

I knew what would happen.

I'm not giving up on feeling things with my whole body yet - I think I'd be disappointing my nephew if I did. I'm still clinging to a hope that I can avoid becoming a full-on adult or my father, despite indicators that both are inevitable.

If you can't give up, and you can't win outright, change the battlefield.

[life, liberty, and the third thing]