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My boy Jack is a thinker. He grasps concepts that must be well beyond his age.

As with many children, he's a tinge obsessed with growing up. It's "When I'm bigger I can chew gum" and "When I'm bigger I can drive." It's a common comment from his three-year-old mouth.

But last night as we were getting ready for the bath, he said to me:

"When I'm bigger, I want to be a Daddy."

I told him he would be.

"And then when I become a Daddy, Daddy will become a Grumpa."

Brillant, I told him. That's true.

"And when Daddy becomes a Grumpa, you'll become a Grandma."

That's right, I told him.

"And then there will be two Grandma Rexes," he said holding up two fingers.

Shocking, isn't it? How did he grasp that concept? Most men three times his age can't wrap around it.

Then today as we cuddled on the couch he brought this Daddy talk up again.

This time I asked him if he was a Daddy, and Daddy was a Grumpa, and Mama was a Grandma Rex, what would Brennan be? He looked at me puzzled.
And I told him he'd be an uncle.

"Uncle Brennan, Mama? That's silly!" Jack said laughing hysterically and glancing at his infant brother happily vibrating.

But I assured him he would be. And then I said maybe his baby would call him Uncle B.

"Or Uncle Rex?"

Sure, I said laughing.

Next I asked him what he planned to name his baby.

"Fred, like my Ga," shrugging his shoulders.

Of course.