We spent a lot of time in the sun and the surf, and Belsum's Scandinavian family got super pink and burned. Good times. Thank god my mom's great grandma banged a native, because I gots me melanin. Yes dear readers, I tan to a golden delicious semi-brown.
We had internet at our swanky beachfront environs, but every time I tried to get on the computer I got hassled by the wife's family to stop nerding out and to join in the activities. But I'm back now. There are lots of stories to tell, but I will limit myself to one.
One sunset we were sitting in the hot tub listening to the crashing ocean waves when I decided that me and my fellow tubbers needed beers. So I sent my niece Abbe on a beer run to the cooler in the kitchen. She came back empty handed. She said her mom wouldn't let her bring us beers. I looked inside and I saw her mother shaking her fist at me. Later Abbe's mom brought us our beers, (so I still win) but bitched me out for asking a 6 year old to fetch them. Now people. I am from the 70's, and I am from South Dakota in the 70's, so I just didn't understand the problem at all. I can't remember a time when I wasn't fetching beers. I mean the beers are there. The adults are drinking them. What's the problem? Later I pulled Abbe aside and instructed her to "go under the radar" the next time I send her on a mission.
The next day we are eating at the kitchen table and I needed a fresh beer, so I tell Kirk, who is only 3 and busy not eating as usual, to go to the cooler and bring me one. The boy walked across the busy room. I saw a bunch of activity in the area around the cooler, several minutes passed, but eventually Kirk rounded the corner in triumph holding the beer over his head and smiling, shouting, "Daddy, I did it." What a good boy. I hugged him and opened my beer. Then I looked across the table at Abbe and said, "Kirk is practically a baby, and he successfully completed HIS mission." She protested, "But my mom wouldn't let me!" I looked at her as soberly as I could and said, "I'm not interested in your excuses, I'm only interested in your results. Let this be a life lesson for you." And then she stuck her tongue out at me. Ha!
All I have to say is, I know I'm a good father, but I'm also one hell of an uncle.
6 comments:
Heh. I was wondering which one story you were going to go with.
Nicely done. However, I must insist that you go all the way and teach Kirk to respond to the command, "Beer Me!"
Dear little Captain Kirk doesn't go on an away mission without succeeding!
A friend of mine who grew up in the 70s in North Dakota would try and one up you by saying he was already drinking at that age. ;)
North Dakota? Ugghh! More like "Wrong" Dakota. Anyway I could write a whole chapter on "poison testing", which is where you have a sip out of every beer you bring your dad, because you love him and want to keep him safe. By the time I was 13 I could drink an entire beer in one really large sip. I wasn't asked to fetch beers much after that. Ah, coming of age.
Well done Kirk!
There's photos of my grandad sending me (aged 3-4) to a vending machine to get him cigarettes in 80s Scotland. And G's step-brother is forever sending his 4 year old to "get Daddy and Grandad a tin".
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