You know how some family stories become legends, and get told over and over again, usually to someone’s embarrassment? Like that time when I was about 15, and I let my 10-month-old cousin slip out of my lap because I wasn’t holding her tightly enough, now known as “That Time Lynn Dropped A Baby On Its Head.” Or that time when I was in my early 20s, playing Hearts at a family reunion with my Great Aunt June, and she gave me the Queen of Spades, now known as “That Time Lynn Called Aunt June A Wench and Received A Good Talking To From Her Mother.”

Many of my Mom’s family legends deal with the period of time when I was a baby, and my older sister, SocialButterfly, was 2. SocialButterfly has the misfortune of being the only extrovert in our family, and she was just dying for a baby sister to play with and care for. My Mom loves to tell tales of SocialButterfly cutting my hair, or putting me in her toy stroller, which I promptly fell right through, or feeding me inappropriate foods. Legend has it that I used to beg to be put into the playpen — unlike most active toddlers who beg to be let out — in order to receive a little respite from all that sisterly “love.”

I must say, although these stories may sound like torture more than playtime, I have never doubted that SocialButterfly acted purely out of affection; she has never been less than adoring with me, even up to adulthood, and she has the biggest, sweetest heart in the world. But I did think that it was really unusual for a preschooler to actually want and love a baby. Aren’t they supposed to be resentful of a new baby? Or at the least, so wrapped up in their own little world of wants and needs that they don’t have time to care about a squealing little bundle who can’t even work the LiteBrite?

But now, I have evidence that it actually can happen. Gal Smiley thinks that the Wee One is okay, sometimes, but Captain Jelly Belly is so enraptured of her, that we have to restrain him most of the time. When the Wee One makes an appearance, he rushes over to see her, getting right in her face with squeals of delight, repeating her name over and over again. At least 50% of the things I say to him these days involve stuff like, “Too close to the baby! No squeezing her face! No hugging while she is eating! Too close, I said! Captain, BACK UP!” But he just can’t seem to help himself, he is so excited to be near her. He begs us not to feed her or take her for a nap, because then he can’t “play” with her, whatever that means. He just loves to bring a parade of his cars or trains by, patiently explaining to her the name and vital stats of each one.

It’s really, really sweet, and I can tell that someday they are going to be really close. Already it’s obvious that they have similar personalities, and will relate to each other in a kindred-spirits kind of way.

But in the near future, I predict it is not too long before the Wee One is begging to be put into the playpen, already.