I have a pair of nephews.
They’re two of the lights of my life, and true joys to spend time with. I view them as I do my own children—kids whose happiness makes me happy; kids I embrace and love and am honored to have as close relatives.
Anyhow, my oldest nephew is 14, and quickly darting toward manhood. He’s now faster than I am and stronger than I am and (odds are) smarter than I am. All of which makes me quite proud. He also possesses a quietly keen and slick sense of humor, which—once one uncovers—is pure gold.
Over the past, oh, two years, he has gifted me with random opportunities to text his friends without telling them it’s his uncle. Now, this might sound odd—but it’s beyond funny, and he always ultimately turns me in. For example, he’ll be texting back and forth with a pal, and I’ll step in and write, SO, DID THE TREE RUN TO OKLAHOMA?
The kid will reply: WHAT?
To which my nephew will write, THAT’S MY UNCLE.
It’s become a game. Whenever I see the nephew, I wind up writing a nonsensical meandering in a text.
Tonight may well have been the best of the best.
He said I could text Michael—a kid I actually know. So I started with, HEY BECK MAN. WHAT UP, BIG DOG? I’M JUST CHILLIN LIKE A CUBE.
Alas, Michael immediately figured out what was up.
HI JEFF, he replied.
Dammit.
I’m not sure of the point here. I suppose it’s that we need to have fun in life. Not just with trips or vacations. But little things. Day-to-day bullshit. We need sparks, laughs, weirdness, quirkiness.
Random texts.
