Paybacks are Sweet

My brother Steve had a nickname in high school.  He was big and strong and played football.  He was the Smasher.  He had a theme song.  We (his devoted fans) roared it from the bleachers every Friday night and it went a little like this:

Here comes the Smasher.
Seek and Destroyer.
Here comes the Smasher.
Maim and Dismember.
Here comes the Smasher.
Kill and Devour.

I didn't earn it, I promise, but by association some of the other jocks called me Baby Smash.  I didn't appreciate it and it definitely didn't help my chances of attracting a boyfriend.  To tell the truth, I've held a grudge about all these years.  Always hoped I'd get my paybacks.  I'm here to tell you that, though it can take a while, all things come full circle eventually.  It took 15 years, but finally my brother has gotten all that was coming to him and then some -- in has come in the form of Julian, my brother's baby boy, the Smashingest of all Baby Smashes.  He's a menace, I tell you.  A twinkling, mischief-making, butterball who specializes in chaos, disorder and mayhem.  Don't believe an eight month old is capable?  Here's proof.  Doesn't he just ooze impishness?

Every time I look at him lately I hear that theme song.

When plotting a demolition: "It's Baby Smasher, Seek and Destroyer."

When tearing apart a bag of tupperware: "It's Baby Smasher, Maim and Dismember."

When leaving teeth marks on his cousin's toys: "It's Baby Smasher, Kill and Devour."

He even growls.  I kid you not.  Like a little bear cub.

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