Cole Thomas Baker, an original

My nephew Cole T. Baker is an original. He always, always marched to his own tune. Always.
I got to spend some time with him albeit unexpectedly, not long ago. It was fabulous. Time with him always is.
My sisters and I had gone to Natchez, Mississippi for our annual sisters trip.
We posted pix of a Sty. Patrick's parade that he thought was in New Orleans. He saw the pix and posed a response that warned that if I was within driving distance and did not call I was on his bad list.
I could not afford to ignore the warning as I was already on his bad list, kind of...
We missed a family reunion last fall. The Hub said he told said nephew that the one weekend he could not attend was the weekend it was set.
Still, I know that the locale is hard to book during the fall pilgrimage and is a popular place for weddings, etc. Cole was frustrated and not a little disappointed. He had used his substantial clout to get it at all together. We are trying again this summer to attend a reunion with the same folk at the same place. I couldn't risk his wrath. We called him. He met us.
For now I am forgiven.
We planned to meet up at one of my favorite places in all the world "Grandmother's Buttons" in St. Francisville, Louisiana. He drove up from Baton Rouge and was to call me when he arrived.
Delayed by my middle sister's fervent attempts to decide upon an Easter dress for her granddaughter, we were not yet at our agreed meeting spot when he arrived.
The middle sister had used up all the battery on her phone sending pictures and text messages back and forth to the grandbaby's mama seeking approval for a dress. She nabbed my phone to use for the same endeavor, leaving me incommunicado.
As I say pouting curbside outside the shop where my sister and my phone were I saw a rather tall, dapper dude walking  down that street toward us.
It took a minute for it to register that I what I was seeing was one of my favorite people in all the world in one of my favorite places in all the world.  My heart flipped over.
I am certain I looked ridiculous running toward him yelling "my baby" to a grown man well over six feet tall. But you see, I carried him on my hip until his feet drug the ground. He is the youngest of my handsome Louisiana nephews and he, like the other two of them, occupies a special place in his auntie's heart. We had a fabulous time. I always do with him.I am reminded as I write this one another fabulous time. He picked me up one December day near Christmas and drove me around to finish up my shopping. He arrived with the car all toasty warm. An Aretha Franklin CD was playing, there was a Starbuck's hot chocolate in the cup holder for me.
A faux fur throw was folded on my seat. It was marvelous. He knew all the right things to do and have and places to go.
He still does. In St. Francisville it seemed  was known wherever we went. At one of the homes we toured, photos were produced of him at a design symposium held her.
I talked him while we lunched in St. Francisville about some of his design projects. In particular, I wanted to know about a spindle bed that he designed. I saw the plans the last time we visited Baton Rouge on the way to the beach.
The plans came to fruition, told me. The bed was built according to his  original design.
I like that he does original designs. It seems fitting, him being such an original.