My little mensch

My 2-year-old nephew Tytony knows all his colors, the days of the week, and words like "extraordinary." My brother tried to put Tytony on the phone this morning to sya hello, but I could hear him say "no...no...no" as if he were being forced to swallow castor oil or shake hands with a clown.

"Uncle Kieran's really upset," my brother lied. Next thing I hear is Tytony's spritely voice: "Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Are you having turkey?" I ask.

"Yeah!" Tytony exclaims. "And cawn mufwum..."

I can't make out what he's saying. "OK, then," I say, and my brother comes back on. "What did he say?"

"He said he's having corn and mushrooms."

"Of course."

Tytony is so precocious he reminds me of a little old man. I really think he's an old soul who wandered off in eternity somewhere and ended up in Brooklyn.

"Last week we were in a store," my brother said, "and he pointed and said, 'That's a menorah. That's what Jewish people use to celebrate Chanukah.' His mother asked him how he knew that. He said he saw it on Blue's Clues. We said, 'Tytony, we're not Jewish. We don't celebrate Chanukah.' He started crying and said, 'I want to celebrate Chanukah!' Next thing he's going to be fasting for Ramadan.'

Nu? Now we know. In a former life Tytony was a little old Jewish man.