Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Why Are Beans Bean and Aunt Bean is a Bean?

We are excited to have my sister here in the DC area for two months while she takes a course and prepares to move abroad to work. She will be splitting time between my brother’s house in DC and our house in the ‘burbs. She’s younger than me by nine years and therefore, to the boys, is nine times cooler than I am.

Ever since she was born I’ve been calling her Bean. She’s my Bean. At first I called her Bambino, then I called her Beano, then shortened it to Bean. All of that happened in the first couple months of her life. Ever since then she’s been Bean. But only to me. No one else calls her that. When Cal and Clark were born and she became an aunt, I asked if she wanted to be called Aunt Bean instead of her real name, and she did. The boys have only known her as Aunt Bean. Yesterday they wanted to get to the bottom of why she is named Aunt Bean.

As we were sitting and eating sandwiches after art class, Clark asked for an explanation. His peanut butter and jelly lines went from ear to ear and his eyebrows were furrowed. “Mommy, why are beans beans and Aunt Bean is a bean? He needed to understand. So I explained the origin of the nickname, and it seemed to make enough sense to them both.

Last night Aunt Bean made delicious black bean burgers (the boys still don’t know they didn’t have meat in them) and did the dishes. Tonight she helped with lasagna and did the dishes. Monday she drove us to swim class, took us grocery shopping where she pushed the squealing boys all over the supermarket in a toy car shopping cart (brand name: Bean) Yesterday she walked with us and helped push the stroller to art class, helped Cal carry back his pile of sticks that he is now collecting every time we go for a walk. I went running with her. We played with cattails with her at Popcorn Ponds. Watched Smokey the Bear public service announcements on her laptop (She’s worked for the Forest Service in the past). She fixed my bike. We showed her our library. Tomorrow we're going museuming with her. It's so fun to have her and to have the boys get to know their Aunt Bean.

Our voices sound alike, which is something we’ve used for our entertainment in the past. Our parents often can’t tell us apart on the phone. The other day Clark was yelling that he was done on the toilet. I answered to wait a minute and he got all flustered. “I’m talking to Mommy, not you, Aunt Bean!” It took some convincing to prove to him that I was answering him.
Overall the past few days have been great with Aunt Bean here. We’re so fortunate to get to see her over the next couple months!

Stalking a bullfrog at Popcorn Ponds

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