Something Charlie often noticed about people (and Mancunians in particular) was that they loved to categorize people. Whether it was discussing 'right-brained' versus 'left-brained', comparing extroverts with introverts, or simply separating the spoons from the geniuses, people were forever slapping categorical labels on one another.
As one of only two children, Charlie himself had often fallen victim to being labeled in this way. His aunt had an annoying habit of introducing him to others as 'the one just like his father'. On the other hand, Mrs. Aldridge down the street was forever cooing over 'how extraordinarily like his mother' he looked. As a child, Charlie only saw these sorts of remarks as unnecessary annoyances in his life, but as he grew older he began to realize just how close to the mark they all were, to a certain extent at least.
He was 'the one just like his father' in that he habitually scratched the side of his nose with his thumb. In that he had a hearty laugh and smile that lit up his whole face, spreading a merry light to the very corners his eyes. In that he was stubborn, selfless, practical and upheld family more than anything in the world.
And yet at the same time, Mrs. Aldridge hadn't been too off the mark when she declared him to be the spitting image of his mother. He shared his mother's beach-blond hair and piercing blue-grey eyes as well as her dedication to hard work and pursuit of a dream. Charlie had also inherited his mother's family's love of food, cooking and music, as well as their incessant and beguiling sense of humour. In fact, Megan Pace herself often called Liam her 'Pace child' and Charlie her 'Stratton child'.
But one thing Charlie knew that he hadn't inherited from his mother was her love of categorizing people. Whenever she, or anyone else, would look him over and say "You're looking more like so-and-so every day!" he would groan inwardly. What did it matter anyway? He was Charlie, he looked like Charlie, he acted like Charlie, and that was all there was to it, the way he saw it.
And yet as he gazed down at the cradle now, he found that his aunt, his mother, Mrs. Aldridge, and all the rest had actually rubbed off on him more than he would have liked to admit. For Aaron looked just like Claire. He possessed the same thin soft lips, sharp blue eyes and rounded cheeks that Charlie loved so much in her. Even the soft wisp of fluff on top of the baby's head was (or would be, given the chance to grow out a bit) softly blond and wavy.
But Aaron had a few features that his mum didn't share – most prominently his ears. Claire's were shapely and fitted close to her head. Her son's on the other hand, were rounded, stuck out to sides and were rather too large for his small baby head. As he kicked his feet beneath his blanket and gurgled happily, he reminded Charlie of a certain children's cartoon character. He laughed softly and felt himself swelling just a wee bit with pride. As a child his nickname had been 'Dopey' and, as foolish as he knew it might seem, Aaron had inherited his ears.
"Perhaps you're 'the one just like your father' as well. Eh, mate?" He grinned at the baby and Aaron grinned right back, the smile lighting up his tiny face and creating a merry twinkle that spread all the way to the very corners of his eyes.