meet (another) neighbor

Okay, this is kind of a funny one.  But it highlights a big part of my life here in the neighborhood. 

Background: this culture (generally speaking) L-O-V-E-S a chunky baby.  [A white chunky baby?  Even better.  Blond, blue-eyed chunky baby?  Best ever.]  As a country they are not too many generations removed from tragic famine (1958-1961), so the obsession with well-fed children is easily understood. 

Grandmas are most often primary care-givers for little ones here and they spend hours obsessing over how to get their babies chunkier. 

I could never count the number of times I've been asked what brand of milk my kids drink - like the trick to getting stocky children is the brand? 

None of my children are lightweights, but John Paul and Luke definitely earn the most points for body stature. 

I suspect this grandma has laid awake nights wondering how to get her little guy up to speed with Luke's pace of growth.  He's three days younger than Luke (prime-time comparison perfection - only three days apart in age!) but.... well..... he's never ever ever going to be as big as Luke! 

I have told her (and many others) over and over again, "Listen, it's not what I feed him, it's his GENES!  He is a big guy!  He has big uncles (two of them)!!  He was 10 pounds at birth!  He's just BIG.  God made him big.  It's not what I feed him.  I promise!  Look at all of my kids, we eat at the same table and they are each different!  Your baby is not small.  He is a perfectly normal healthy size.  It's not fair to compare him to Luke."

She doesn't want to hear me.  She's convinced I know some secret trick to big babies.

[I ran into her when she was shopping for these shoes - fake purple crocs that look like sneakers.  Pretty awesome grandma footwear, huh?]

This is when I say, "Gentle Luke, be gentle."

Look at their legs!  Their shoulders, their hands! 

Fifteen years from now Luke will be at least eight inches taller and sixty pounds heavier than this guy. 

No matter what his Grandma feeds him!