Two totally unrelated things today, the
first being that my favorite one-year old in the world becomes my
favorite two-year old in the world!
It's my nephew Abel James' 2nd
birthday today. Abel is a friendly, high-energy kid who has a smile
and a laugh for almost every single person on the planet. In fact, I
think Abel DOES have a smile for every single person on the planet
save one, a person who he'll see, then break into a loud sob, tears
streaming down his face.
And you can guess who that one person
is, right?
I don't know why Abel breaks into tears
every time he sees me. After all, I'm his only biological uncle, and
he's partially named after me, so on the surface he should like me,
right? And it's weird—every single other little kid on the planet
seems to like me. I can smile at one and get a smile back. I can
just move my eyebrows and get a laugh in return.
But my nephew? Not so much.
My family thinks it's funny, and I have
to admit that if I was a little less secure it might bother me. But
it doesn't, because I know that kids are strange that way. Abel
loves my sister, my nieces, and Loraine, and will give them hugs on
command. For some reason, though, he's not that into me. And that's
okay. I think the problem is that my brother (Abel's dad) and I look
a lot alike, although I have hair and Marc doesn't. (I also know how
to pronounce Ishpeming without an “R”, but that's a story for
another day). Abel must look at me and think he sees his dad, then
realizes a second later that it's not, which causes a little
freak-out. And that's understandable. He's two years old, and
two-year olds don't often understand what's happening around them.
So I have no problem with that.
However, should he turn 5 or 6 and
STILL cry every time he sees me; well, then we'll need to sit down
and have a talk. But for now, he's allowed to do what he wants. And
I hope today that he wants to have a great birthday.
Happy second, Abel!
*****
Secondly, happy Deer Season Eve!
That’s a real holiday, right?
For the 20th time (20
times???????) I present an epic “poem” (using the word rather
loosely) to commemorate the U.P. national holiday. Even though I've
never personally celebrated the holiday, I know a lot of people do.
So if you are, I hope it's both a successful and safe day.
And remember—if you stay hydrated
your hangover won't be as bad as it could be. I'm just saying...
8-)
“’Twas the Night Before Deer Camp”,
by Jimmy Koski, grade 3.
TWAS THE NIGHT
BEFORE DEER SEASON
AND ALL THROUGH
THE CAMP
HUNTERS WERE
UNLOADED BEER CRATES
AND LIGHTING UP
LAMPS
THE RIFLES THEY
HUNG
IN THE PICKUP
WITH CARE
IN HOPES THAT A
10-POINTER
SOON WOULD BE
THERE
I IN MY ORANGE
MY BUDDY IN
GREEN
SAT DOWN TO A
CRIBBAGE GAME
THE BIGGEST EVER
SEEN
WE PLAYED
THROUGH THE NIGHT
AND EMPTIED
THOSE CRATES
BUT MORNING SOON
CAME
WE DIDN’T WANT
TO BE LATE
WE SET OUT AT
SUNRISE
AT DAWN’S
EARLY LIGHT
PUT DOWN A BIG
BAIT PILE
IN HOPES THAT
BAMBI WOULD BITE
WE SAT AND WE
WAITED
AND WAITED SOME
MORE
I KEPT MY EYES
OPEN
MY BUDDY STARTED
TO SNORE
WHEN TO MY
SURPRISE
STANDING RIGHT
BY A TREE
WAS A BIG
12-POINT BUCK
MY PANTS I
DID...WELL, NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT
I BROUGHT UP MY
RIFLE
I LINED UP THE
DEER
THEN MY BUDDY
WOKE UP AND YELLED
“HEY--WHERE’S
THE BEER?”
THE BUCK RAN
AWAY
I LOWERED MY GUN
MY BUDDY JUST
LAUGHED
SAID “LET’S
HAVE SOME FUN”
WE WENT BACK TO
DEER CAMP
AND HAD US A
BALL
SO LET ME SAY
THIS--
GOOD LUCK DEER HUNTING TO ALL...
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