I’d be lying if I said I loved having kids around. I don’t usually. They pull hair, they spit, they stomp, they sweat, they smell, they whine and they scream, usually for ice cream. I think on airplanes they should have a special section in the back for kids, with a sound proof steel deviding wall. I was a kid once (believe it or ot), I guess I still am. I remember this one time in FLorida, our family went to see a live crockadile show. My cousin ran ahead to get a better look and I was so jealous that he was going to get a better vantage point of the crock eating a chicken that I started running after him. I was little about 8 or 9 but I remember this as clear as day. As I ran down the hall, I tried to squeeze past this couple holding hands, I took a deep breath and made myself skinny so that I would fit in between the railing and the lady on the left.
I saw stars, I heard a scream. I kept on running, looking back over my shoulder out of guilt. As it turns out, she had a broken arm, in a cast, my skull smashed her elbow and I never had the balls to say I’m sorry. Adults scared me and I just kept running. I will never forget how terrible I felt inside. It tore at my gut for three days, especially when I saw them later, after the show was over in the parking lot. I thought the man was going to kick my ass. He should have, I would have. I still might. Fight club style.
But then I grew up, I stopped doing most of those things ( I still pick my nose) and I began to like myself. My two sisters grew up as well, and somehow (don’t ask me) they introduced this world to four of the most adorable little ankle munchers this blue sphere has ever seen. Nathan, Quinn, Teagan and now little Jack. I don’t see them as much as I would like. I’m the crazy uncle who lives out west and climbs rocks, rides snow, bikes and surf boards. I’m also on the road most of the year and I don’t have alot of money to keep flying home every few months. With gas prices the way they are, I’m not sure flying will be much of an option in the future. This year already prices went up about 200 hundred bucks. But in the end, it is always worth it. I guess. I want to be a good uncle, I do, and if blowing off a months rent to live in a tent, just to fly home and see them is what it takes, them gosh darn it, that’ll be what I do.
If only I could convince my whole family to move out west and enjoy the mountains as much as I do. It wouldn’t be that hard, quit jobs, change schools, sell houses, rent five or six big fat moving vans, and start all over out west, live on the overpopulated coast of Northern Vancouver, where housing prices are not only high, they are f-cking retarded, where it rains six months a year and where B.C. residents pay the most clams per litre of gas in the whole country. But god-damn the granite is good.
Here are some pictures of my beautiful little niece and nephews from last weekend.
I hope everyone is having a delicious day, wherever you may be in the world. I know I am.