There is no mistaking: Eli is a Decker

We all know that Eli has that little swirley thing in the back of his head. Dad calls it a "cowlick" and laments about his own swirl. If you google the word "cowlick" you will find that Alfalfa from "Our Gang" has the most famous cowlick. Strictly speaking, a cowlicks occur "when hair forms a pivot that distributes the hair from a specific point around in all different directions." Even supermodel Claudia Schiffer is reported to have two cowlicks. At the moment there is hope for Eli. The barber who cut his cowlick the other day said that hair changes every six years. So when he turns six, it may disappear. Or simply swirl the other way.

So then there's the tongue thing. Eli loves to slide his tongue out of his mouth ever so slightly when he's really thinking or playing hard. His tongue just sits there, between his teeth, causing a look of intense concentration. Sometimes those dang blocks are mighty hard to get on the little pegs and when that's the case, out comes the tongue. It must be genetic. Dad does it. Doug does it. Erik says that when I really think hard, I even do it. Good grief. We all have tongue issues.

Then comes mac and cheese. Eli loves to dip things in ketchup. I mean, the kid would dip a cookie in ketchup if we had it out. So Eli had some mac and cheese with a hotdog. I put a little ketchup on his tray for his hotdog. But what does he do? Put the ketchup on his mac and cheese and munch away. I used to cringe when mom made a steamy, creamy, cheesy batch of real mac and cheese. It tasted so good and the cheese was just right. But then dad would roll in, put a mound of delicious mac and cheese on his plate, and douse that baby with ketchup. Can you say, "Ewwwwwwww!" But somehow over the years, I have softened to the thought of ketchup served with mac and cheese. I guess Eli can eat it all he wants. Or is it that it's much easier to let a toddler pick their own food combinations for fear of the whole tray ending up on the floor?

We already know that Republican roots run deep and trying to break free of such ties is akin to climbing Mt. Everest or retracing Ernest Shackleton's journey to the South Pole. Erik and I are trying to bring Eli up in a democratic household. Some methods are overt, such as the signed photo of Bill Clinton that hangs proudly in the den. Others are rooted in Eli's subconscious. The blue walls in his room. His Democrat onesie. The John Kerry sign that is tucked away in his memento box to signify his birth (which happened the day that Kerry picked Edwards as his running mate). However, we are a little worried our efforts are not working. Why you ask? Well, of all the animal sounds Eli can make, the elephant is the best. He loves elephants. He is obsessed with them. In line at Wendy's on Friday, Eli did his best elephant: Arm thrust high over his head, index finger pointed like a snout, and a resounding "ppppppfffffffffffftttttttttttttt" coming from his mouth. The man next to me in line laughed. In conversation, Erik mentioned elephants to prove a point he was trying to make. Eli burst out with a wonderful impression. Even when waking up, the first thing he does to us is the elephant. We have tried to impress the importance of knowing what a donkey says but he simply won't say, "hee-hawwww!" What are we to do?

And so the search for Decker-isms continues.