This week I would like to slow down a bit to enjoy the finer, more subtle things in life. Lately I've written about the exotic nature of taking off, the ecstasy of visiting someplace new. Leave it to a ten-year-old to provide me with a fresh perspective on life.
I have to say that being an uncle is one of the best jobs on the planet. I am around my nephews and niece just often enough to create my own blasé persona, yet not so frequently as to have to administer discipline. The situation is perfect - I get to show up now and then with treats, be cool and easygoing, and then leave before anything hits the fan. I get to be associated with doing fun things, like driving a Gator, going boating, and using large machinery. I get to leave the parenting to my brother and sister - this is one situation in life where I am not the one to draw the line.
At this time, let me introduce you to my nephew, Sam. My sister and her husband live in Madison, so Sam has always been a frequent visitor to the farm. My plan has worked perfectly; I am not called "Uncle Dan", but rather "The Best Uncle EVER." A few months ago, I drove to Madison to pick him up. Here is where he would begin to provide me with a unique perspective, one that only a ten-year-old can provide.
I pulled into the driveway, not even having to honk to alert my presence. Sam was waiting, suitcase in hand. He was about to head to Florida with my parents for Spring Break, and would be gone for a week. My job was to drive him from Madison to Monroe. I got out of the truck and helped him with his bags. I asked, "Hey buddy - you excited to go to Florida?"
With the dramatization that only a ten-year-old can provide, Sam dropped his shoulders and exhaustively replied, "Oh yes, but this week has been taking for-EVER." As we drove to Monroe we chatted, and I began to realize something. Sam was about to take a week-long vacation. For him, there were practically no preparations that needed to be made. He didn't have to coordinate any work schedules, he didn't have to worry about paying for anything, heck - he didn't even have to pack his own bags. For Sam, going on vacation meant nothing more than waiting for the day to come.
In another incident, Sam was visiting the farm for a few days. A dilemma arose: my mother and father each had a prior engagement, and would be gone for the evening. Even Ashley would be gone. I sat back and watched with amusement while everyone scrambled, trying to figure out what to do with Sam. He couldn't be left alone, could he? After a few minutes I quietly piped, "Why doesn't he just hang out with me tonight?"
What resulted, was the most incredible perspective on entertainment I have ever been offered. I looked at Sam, "Hey buddy - we can do whatever you want tonight. Just let me know and I'll be sure to get milking done on time." Within moments we decided that we would finish chores early, and go to Culver's for chicken strips and ice cream. We would then buy extra cheddar-cheesy popcorn, come home and watch "How to Train Your Dragon."
Of course I was excited; hanging out with my ten-year-old nephew meant I would be able to watch the movies I'm not usually allowed to see, like "Dragon", "Wall-e", "Monsters vs Aliens", and "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs". Sam, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He began counting the hours until I was done with milking. He made up a song, and bounced around the house singing, "It's going to be the best night EVER." Like I said at the onset, it's a piece of cake being the 'World's Best Uncle'.
In fact, he came outside while I was milking. "Hey Uncle Danny, is there anything I can do to help, so that we can go to Culver's and watch the movie any sooner?" Without having to be told, Sam gathered the empty calf bottles and washed them. I could get used to this - washing bottles is my least favorite job on the planet. I'll happily buy someone Culver's in order to get out of it.
And so, the 'best night EVER' went as planned. Sam and I went to Culvers, and I told him he could have whatever he wanted. You should have seen the look in his eyes. After our meal he insinuated that ice cream would be good, so I gave him a ten - "go order whatever you want." I don't think I have ever seen such euphoria attached to a scoop of chocolate ice cream with Reese's Pieces and sprinkles.
At the grocery store he nearly fell on the floor when we found our cheddar cheese popcorn. We went home to watch "How to Train your Dragon", and we preemptively recited our favorite lines together.
Yes, being an uncle has to be the best job on the planet. Sam went back to Madison the next day, protesting the entire time.
Like I said, I'm around just often enough to maintain my cool image before having to give him back. However, the experience means much more than personal gain. Sam has provided a unique perspective on life, one that only a ten-year-old can offer.
In the future, I'll try to make going on vacation as relaxing and stress-free as possible. Most importantly, I will take time to enjoy the simplistic value of a scoop of ice cream. After all, no matter the flavor, a bowl of ice cream makes everything taste better.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
I have to say that being an uncle is one of the best jobs on the planet. I am around my nephews and niece just often enough to create my own blasé persona, yet not so frequently as to have to administer discipline. The situation is perfect - I get to show up now and then with treats, be cool and easygoing, and then leave before anything hits the fan. I get to be associated with doing fun things, like driving a Gator, going boating, and using large machinery. I get to leave the parenting to my brother and sister - this is one situation in life where I am not the one to draw the line.
At this time, let me introduce you to my nephew, Sam. My sister and her husband live in Madison, so Sam has always been a frequent visitor to the farm. My plan has worked perfectly; I am not called "Uncle Dan", but rather "The Best Uncle EVER." A few months ago, I drove to Madison to pick him up. Here is where he would begin to provide me with a unique perspective, one that only a ten-year-old can provide.
I pulled into the driveway, not even having to honk to alert my presence. Sam was waiting, suitcase in hand. He was about to head to Florida with my parents for Spring Break, and would be gone for a week. My job was to drive him from Madison to Monroe. I got out of the truck and helped him with his bags. I asked, "Hey buddy - you excited to go to Florida?"
With the dramatization that only a ten-year-old can provide, Sam dropped his shoulders and exhaustively replied, "Oh yes, but this week has been taking for-EVER." As we drove to Monroe we chatted, and I began to realize something. Sam was about to take a week-long vacation. For him, there were practically no preparations that needed to be made. He didn't have to coordinate any work schedules, he didn't have to worry about paying for anything, heck - he didn't even have to pack his own bags. For Sam, going on vacation meant nothing more than waiting for the day to come.
In another incident, Sam was visiting the farm for a few days. A dilemma arose: my mother and father each had a prior engagement, and would be gone for the evening. Even Ashley would be gone. I sat back and watched with amusement while everyone scrambled, trying to figure out what to do with Sam. He couldn't be left alone, could he? After a few minutes I quietly piped, "Why doesn't he just hang out with me tonight?"
What resulted, was the most incredible perspective on entertainment I have ever been offered. I looked at Sam, "Hey buddy - we can do whatever you want tonight. Just let me know and I'll be sure to get milking done on time." Within moments we decided that we would finish chores early, and go to Culver's for chicken strips and ice cream. We would then buy extra cheddar-cheesy popcorn, come home and watch "How to Train Your Dragon."
Of course I was excited; hanging out with my ten-year-old nephew meant I would be able to watch the movies I'm not usually allowed to see, like "Dragon", "Wall-e", "Monsters vs Aliens", and "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs". Sam, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He began counting the hours until I was done with milking. He made up a song, and bounced around the house singing, "It's going to be the best night EVER." Like I said at the onset, it's a piece of cake being the 'World's Best Uncle'.
In fact, he came outside while I was milking. "Hey Uncle Danny, is there anything I can do to help, so that we can go to Culver's and watch the movie any sooner?" Without having to be told, Sam gathered the empty calf bottles and washed them. I could get used to this - washing bottles is my least favorite job on the planet. I'll happily buy someone Culver's in order to get out of it.
And so, the 'best night EVER' went as planned. Sam and I went to Culvers, and I told him he could have whatever he wanted. You should have seen the look in his eyes. After our meal he insinuated that ice cream would be good, so I gave him a ten - "go order whatever you want." I don't think I have ever seen such euphoria attached to a scoop of chocolate ice cream with Reese's Pieces and sprinkles.
At the grocery store he nearly fell on the floor when we found our cheddar cheese popcorn. We went home to watch "How to Train your Dragon", and we preemptively recited our favorite lines together.
Yes, being an uncle has to be the best job on the planet. Sam went back to Madison the next day, protesting the entire time.
Like I said, I'm around just often enough to maintain my cool image before having to give him back. However, the experience means much more than personal gain. Sam has provided a unique perspective on life, one that only a ten-year-old can offer.
In the future, I'll try to make going on vacation as relaxing and stress-free as possible. Most importantly, I will take time to enjoy the simplistic value of a scoop of ice cream. After all, no matter the flavor, a bowl of ice cream makes everything taste better.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
