I am not a baby person. I have a nephew who is two years old that can’t look at me without crying. In fact all babies cry around me—it is a gift. I am the baby of my family, so I guess I never honed those nurturing skills. When faced with the task of holding a baby, I fidget and excuse myself to the restroom. Oh, and don’t get me started on baby showers. Some people take great pride in shower gifts, a la Charlotte in Sex and the City. I am more of a Samantha—migraine medicine in one hand and wine in the other.

Nevertheless, I think it is time to give this whole “baby” thing another shot. I mean there has to be something to all this ooohhhhing and ahhhhhhing.

Lucky for me I will get a chance to start anew with a brand spanking new nephew named Owen Nicholas this Thanksgiving. And I figured what better way to become acquainted than by introducing him to two of my loves—The Philadelphia Eagles and shoes.

I don’t normally go for the cutesy diaper trees or homemade bonnets, but a Silly Philly is one hoagie I can sink my teeth into. Not only will this new born have the chance to be outfitted in what looks to be the cutest booties to hit the east coast, but he will also be receiving his very first style lesson. After all, style knows no age. Drool or no drool, no nephew of mine will be caught dead in anything less than fantastic.

Fly Eagles Fly. . . .