No-Alliteration Thursday: Opeation “Have Mercy!”

So recently I’ve begun to notice my sister, recently married, was starting to pack on the pounds. Having seen a stand-up comic before, I was well aware this is apparently quite normal, as after tricking a man down the aisle, women have been known to kind of give up. As one of the beautiful people however, I wasn’t too keen on becoming associated with an uggo, and so it was that I went about my solemn duty of pointing out that she sure needed to put down the damn cake. Well, as it turns out, Little Miss Has-an-Answer-for-Everything was ready to counter me with “I’m pregnant.”

A likely excuse.

Well, as it turns out, she actually was, which is in itself pretty boring until you think about how it effects me, because I am important. I am now going to be an uncle, and God as my witness, I’m going to be the cool one. I mean, I’ll still be there for the occasional heartwarming bit of advice that succinctly wraps up the little scamps recent endeavors, but I’ll also be the one with the leather jacket and the hot babes. In short, I have to be this kid’s Uncle Jesse.

The need to be the cool uncle is two-fold. For starters, it’s always been one of my life goals to be the cool uncle, because fuck it, it’s not my kid, so I might as well spoil him. Secondly, Dan Jr.’s  the spawn of an ultimate fighter so it’s probably for the best that I am always on the kid’s good side.

Now, as I see it, there are two equally important avenues to making my goal: spoiling the kid rotten to win his adoration, tosand smearing the competition to assure I don’t get relegated Uncle Joey status.

Avenue One: The Spoiling

This is the easy part, due to the aforementioned complete lack of culpability for how the kid actually turns out.

The Early Years: The candy avalanche phase. If I know little kids, and I think I do, it’s that the way to a youngin’s heart is through candy, candy and more candy. I’d be worried about possibly giving the kid diabetes, but to be totally honest, I’m still not entirely sure how all that works, so I’m not going to waste my time fretting over a potentially unhealthy strategy.

The Pre-Teens: This is where I win the kid over by teaching him to play sports, and possibly even get myself an America’s Funniest Home Videos candidate for my efforts. The most important thing in a young boy’s life is excelling at sports because that’s how you become successful. Everybody knows it doesn’t matter if you can count to forty, because as long as you can hit a receiver at forty, you will never be wanting for good grades or foxy ladies.

High School: Alright Kristin, if you’re reading this, now is the time to go ahead and look away. She gone? Cool. I am buying the shit out of alcohol for this kid, because what is more important to a high schooler than alcohol? Nothing. Sure, I’ll have to make it clear that if he gets busted I’m going to have to find a new nephew to be the cool uncle for (which, given his pedigree, means I should probably acquire a gun license) but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

Adult Life: This is where I check out. Grown-ups are far, far too needy for me to put in the effort required to stay cool uncle at this point. That being said, once you’re not a kid anymore, the cute factor is gone, so I don’t really care if the kid doesn’t like me anymore, I’m sure there will be younger nieces and nephews I can turn to to help me score good-guy points with the lasses.

Avenue Two: The Slandering

Obviously, there can only be one cool uncle, for which I have three opponents. The easiest to fend off comes in the form of my own blood. Frankly, the orange juice container in my fridge right now is going to be a cooler uncle than Kevin, and everybody knows it. On the father’s side however, my competition isn’t so lax. On the one hand, you’ve got a veterinarian, armed with access to innumerable cute animals. On the other hand, another damn ultimate fighter, who brings in added cool points of punching other people on national television for a living.

Clearly, I won’t simply be able to beat them on my own merit. No, there is definitely smearing to be done. The way I see it, a simple trip by the office on a day when Fido’s getting a ball-snipping should be good enough to forever scar the kid, assuming I can get him a front-row seat before he hit’s five or so.

As for the punch-kick-and-choking machine, well, it’s always easier to baselessly sling mud at somebody when you’re the webmaster of their professional web site. Let’s see how cool Uncle Jim is when his last seven victories have come by way of “TKO (Opponent Refused to Fight Crying Man)”.

With all that taken care-of, I should be a shoe-in for cool uncle, and then all that’s left to do is take him to the park with me and go all Big Daddy on some beautiful girl, with the added bonus of not having to commit jail time-earning fraud to do it.

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