Jack Attack!

Jack Arthur (3.75), 4 in March, a.k.a. Jack-Jack, is built like a fire hydrant and is the live-wire little brother of Jared.  As discussed earlier in my blog about Jared, Jack is technically my nephew, but I know he will grow to know me only as Pappy.  Jack likes to call me Mr. Mike, which of course I love, but when the other g’kids are around, he calls me Pappy too. 

Jack has the toughness of a Sherman tank, and might likely be the one that ends his big brother Jared’s football career the first time he flattens him while playing tackle football in one of their back yard pickup games.  Jack can be running on the driveway, trip, and can go face-first onto the concrete, and come up shaking it off with nary a whimper.  His face will be full of scraps and contusions, kneecaps showing cartilage, palms without a mark (remember, I said face first), and he still has the pain tolerance to just dust himself off and come back for more. 

Jack’s smile is infectious.  Since birth, I can remember very few times when I’ve looked at Jack and he was not smiling.  Jack is a spitting image of the Stank clan; with those melt your heart blue eyes, great head of blond hair, and that smile.  Wow, you just gotta love that smile. 

Jack spoke quite early for a boy, and one of his first words/sentences was referring to his dog Harley; which he has also shown a great propensity in his love for dogs.  That part I’ll never understand, but hey, no one is perfect.

Jack does not yet have the master negotiation skills of his older brother Jared, but Jack is always ready for “Let’s Make A Deal!”, the game show version.  You know the one, where Monte Hall comes around and tells the lady that he’ll give her $100 if she can instantly produce a Sooners key chain, or an Afro hair clip, or an empty container of eye shadow out of the bottom of her purse.  With Jack, he’s always got something in his pocket.  It might be his Croc Dundee knife, or a frog’s leg, or a toy soldier, or one of Harley’s dog biscuits; but I guarantee you, there is always something in Jack’s pocket. 

Jack was originally scared of me as a baby boy, but his love for me has grown with his age and maturity, and now he gives me great big bear hugs whenever he sees me, and then almost immediately shifts into play mode. 

It was an honor to be named Jack’s Godfather shortly after his birth; and I love it when he crawls up in my lap just to chill; most frequently though, I am under constant ‘Jack Attack’ by this little dynamo, with me living the Scout motto of “Be Prepared!”  I love you Jack Arthur.