I got the chance to have my nephew for an overnight visit last weekend.

Jackson just turned one, and there’s nothing better than soft, kissable baby cheeks that look like they’re storing nuts for the winter. He still has that cute baby-scented skin, kinda like sweet puppy breath that you know will eventually disappear.

My sister certainly lucked out with her firstborn.

The boy hardly ever cries and has an appetite like a contestant on Survivor. He’s so cute that I somehow didn’t mind fumbling downstairs at 5 am for his milk when he awoke hungry. We snuggled on the couch and he amazingly drifted right back to sleep, tucked inside my arm like Peyton Manning’s football.

Oh, and a big thanks to little J, as I call baby Jackson, for timing out his diaper changes just right that Uncle Greg was the one to change him.

The following morning, Jackson’s eyes grew big as Greg vacuumed the floors, so Greg leaned down, looked him right in the eye and said…

Jackson, this is a vacuum. Something your mommy and Aunt Deb know nothing about.

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