I'll Say a Little Prayer For...

You know how competitive I am when it comes to children's affection.

Well, a couple of weeks ago, Tiffany and I made a quick trip to New York to see family and friends, including our old college buddies, Teresa and Bobby, and their two children, Peter, 2, and Julia, 4.

Even though we've spent time with both kids on several occasions now, at these tender ages I always feel I really have to make a strong No-Longer-First-First-Impression. That's why this time I made sure I was the one who handed Peter and Julia the Cookie Monster cupcakes we picked out for them at the bakery. And why, much to Teresa's horror, I didn't correct Peter when he held a teacup upside down and dumped pretend water all over a doll while demonstrating how he would feed his future baby brother or sister.

"That's so nice," I cooed.

Early in our relationship, Julia called me by name (okay, by my college soccer nickname, which is a syllable shorter) but seemed incapable of remembering Tiffany's.

"Mommy, remember when Rebo and That One came to visit?" Teresa told us she would say.

But this time Tiffany had me beat. Bad.

After our first night, Teresa broke the news that Peter had included only Tiffany in his evening prayer, right after his mommy, his daddy, his sister and the Berenstain Bears.