I didn't think I was a 'kid person.' My niece taught me otherwise.

• While I don't dislike children, I've never been a kid person.
• When my sister announced she was pregnant, I made it my mission to be a fun uncle to my niece.

"You're not very good at this," my 3-year-old niece told me as she picked two identical flamingo cards from opposite sides of the table.

"You're right, you're beating me!" I admitted and smiled, reflecting on my relationship with her.

I've never been a kid person. Don't get me wrong — I'm not one of those adults that vehemently dislike kids or proudly state, "I won't hold the baby," while drinking a martini at a baby shower. But, ever since I've been an adult, I've simply been neutral toward them.

So, a couple years ago, when my older sister showed me a picture of a literal bun in an oven to announce she was pregnant with a baby girl, I wondered if I would genuinely like this kid on top of the familial love I would bear. And, selfishly, I wondered if she would like me, as well.

I wanted to be the cool uncle

Akin to "Mean Girls," I didn't want to be a regular uncle; I wanted to be a cool uncle. A "funcle."

While there are countless books on parenting, the advice for being a good uncle mostly boils down to listicles on the internet offering a hodgepodge of information. I knew I wanted to spoil her, but I also wanted to be a good role model and confidant down the road. I imagined taking her to Dairy Queen after a piano recital or chatting about the person she was dating before she told her parents. But, for her toddler years, I planned on giving her lots of ice cream, playing games, and, of course, having loads of energy and patience.

My attempts stalled, though. About a month before her first birthday, the pandemic hit, and I watched my niece learn how to crawl and walk over FaceTime. I read some books and played peekaboo through the tiny screen, but my ideas for in-person relationship building fell through the cracks. All that considered, she always smiled — OK, maybe not always — when I answered the video call.

So, when I visited her in person a year and a half later, it was as if I was going on a first date with a person I had only communicated with virtually. Was she still going to like me? Would our relationship be different in person?

Playing a matching game was the key

After some time getting reacquainted, upon her request, we began to play a toddler version of the matching game. The goal of the game is to find as many pairs of cards that, when picture- or word-side-up, are identical.

Playing the game was a struggle. Even though I only laid out six cards with huge graphics, at times, she put the cards in her mouth, flipped multiple cards over, or moved on to another toy. I'm not complaining. In fact, I would have been shocked if she had been able to sit still for over five minutes. But, perhaps this game was too advanced for a 2-year-old.

With each subsequent visit, though, we revisited the matching game, which served as a common ground for the two of us to play and connect over. I slowly observed my niece's stamina and attention increase. Almost a year later, my niece could sit through an entire game. Furthermore, we upgraded the cards from ones with big iconographic pictures of birds or pizza to complex ones featuring various animals and patterns. Above all, I loved seeing her skills develop over time through this simple, yet complex, game.

"You found a bird!" I said, watching my niece pick up a pair of cards.

"That's a parrot, mam," she corrected, calling me "uncle" in Konkani.

And when she didn't recognize an animal or an image, she would ask what it was or press for more information. "How is a crocodile different than an alligator?" Sometimes she even tested my knowledge with the questions she asked. Through this game and through others, our relationship blossomed.

But maybe more impressively, I've seen how she's been able to use the concepts learned in the game and apply them to her broader life. When going to daycare, she frequently recognizes who's at drop-off and pickup based on the cars in the parking lot. When she had her first piece of pie, she noted that the buttery crust had a similarity to the croissant she had eaten the day before.

While the game played a minor role in improving my niece's skills along with our relationship, as an uncle, it pulled back the curtain and allowed me to witness the stages of her beautiful development. Before my niece, I spent little time around kids, but playing these games highlighted how unique and wonderful a growing kid can be and how they change over time.

Perhaps I am a kid person after all.