Family Dreamin'

I'm back home in Nashville. The next thing I know, my brother tells me he has to kill someone. He wasn't angry or anything, he acted as if he were told to cut the grass, he doesn't really want to do it. Although, there was a hint in his voice that told me he was serious.

As I followed him through the house, he repeated "I have to kill someone" a couple more times. The development was getting interesting when I saw a knife in my brother's hand. Not a small butter knife, but a big knife you would use to cut a watermelon. My brother was really about to kill someone.

We walked through the back door and let up the garage door, I was beginning to wonder who my brother was about to kill. It couldn't have been any of the neighbors, or could it?

As the garage door creaked up, I could see thick rain splattering on the ground and flowing down the hill. Back home there are woods behind our house... deep and tall in the shady night... at least in my dream they were. Looking into the branches of the trees, there was movement that startled me to attention. Things were frantically moving around in the trees. There were thousands of squirrels.. Some were wet and shivering in the cold rain, others running around, hopping from tree to tree (To explain, rain makes them move into the trees. I guess its what squirrels do). The trees were infested with squirrels.

I asked my brother, "What are we looking for?"

He says, "Help me find one that looks weird. I have to kill that one."

Overwhelmed at the sight of all these squirrels, I looked around. Turning to the right, a squirrel that looked different than the others emerged. Squinting through the darkness and rain, I saw the squirrel was exactly what it should look like except for one thing, his back legs were shrunken. I believe it was some kind of mutation.
This squirrel began walking across a branch to the left. While it walked, it's back legs were kicking and pushing with all their might just to keep up with the front (Maybe it was my Aunt Sharon that asked my brother to kill the squirrel. She likes animals so much she shows more love to them than her own children. I guess she felt so bad for the deformed squirrel she wanted it dead).

I slightly felt sorry for the poor thing, it was living a sad life. My brother was right, we have to kill it. Since those back legs were so small it should be easy, I didn't think it
would be able to run too fast. Steve raised his knife and began to run after the deformed squirrel as fast as he could (Note my brother is pretty athletic and fast). He somehow ran it out of the trees and onto the land.

He chased and chased, but the squirrel's front legs were all it needed to keep it's distance. My brother never got close. They ran in a wide circle and the squirrel ended back up in the trees. By this time, my brother didn't want to be bothered doing this crap.
Soon afterwards he was driving me around, then called someone on his phone with the good news. I don't think he would be going after the squirrel any more...

Uncle Mike

I’m no Michael Jackson and I’m not a feminine guy, but little kids are fun to be around. I have never been interested in children before. As a matter of fact, I would probably leave the room if rug rats showed up. I’ve always thought they cried too much. It wasn’t an option to try to keep a kid from crying.

The main young one that got me to like being around lil kids is my nephew. The first weekend after he was born, his third day, I saw him for the first time. It was exciting, it was also the first time I saw the mother. That entire evening seemed almost unbelievable. Being an uncle so early (20 yrs old) felt weird. Back then, he was a light-skinned, tiny baby. After a while, I found myself saying, “LIL STEVE! LIL STEVE!” repeatedly with a smile on my face.

Keep in mind I haven’t held a baby in my life until that day. While holding lil Steve, awkward is the best word to describe how I felt. My hands were under him like holding a watermelon. Curled up and wrapped in blankets, he slept motionless, except for the few random jumps. I guessed it was normal for babies to jump in their sleep, but not after I’d say, “What was that!? Is he O.K.!?”

A few months later, during the summer, I would make the most random silly face I could in order to make Lil Steve laugh. You would have to be there looking at me, you would laugh too. Random noises would come out of my mouth too. Every now and then, I’d play a “baby game”. On the floor, Lil Steve would crawl up to me from a few feet away. Once he reached to my stomach I would come to life all of the sudden and make a buzzing sound, like a happy bee, with a big grin. He’d smile and fall back, crawl away real fast, then come back. We would go at it for a long time.

Another kid I grew to like in a short amount of time I called Piglet. First, let me say I can’t help laughing when another person’s laugh sounds funny. Lil Piglet snorted a lot when he laughed. It was so funny. I think he was around six years old. Being around that kid got my spirits up, it being the funniest thing that happened on that trip. I think the kid liked me; he kept following me just so I’d tickle him. But I noticed this was the only kid there I thought was interesting. The others seemed only to want attention, while this one wanted to laugh. If kids have personalities at age 6, I liked this one’s.

My cousin has two kids. One of them I began to like. I barely did anything but show funny faces. Then, he would leave me alone, somewhat shy. Haha. But he was a cool kid. If you asked him not to do something, he wouldn’t do it. At the end of the day we hung out, the mother smacked him really hard in the back of the head, and said, “Don’t kick that dog!!” I wanted to smack the tongue out her mouth. The kid, around 5 years old, barely kicked, and was probably just curious. It’s understandable to tell the kid not to do it, but DAMN, she didn’t have to smack him upside the head, like some kind of animal.

Those are one of the kids I wish had better parents. They are so fucking stupid, man I can barely think about it without getting upset. Once you meet parents like this, you’d understand. They are very ghetto, and aren’t very intelligent.

Back to a lighter note, I suppose I’m good around kids. They seem to like me when all I do is give them a little attention. As long as they don’t seem spoiled or bratty, I try to make them laugh.

Some say, “He likes you mike!” In my mind, I’m thinking “Well that’s because lil kids are my specialty!”