As if I needed a reminder that my 11-year-old nephew is his father's son, I was reminded yesterday.
I was in my manual chair because the ball bearings in my power chair had died or disappeared or what ever ball bearings do when they fail, so I called him to help me up the ramp into the house.
Sure, he said, and he came out.
What he mostly did, though, was keep me from rolling backward while shouting encouragement at me to keep pushing myself up the ramp.
It's not a bad thing he is like his dad, who does love and help me but does the same thing when he pushes me up the really steep driveway in my bike.
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