My nephew, Jack, turns 16 on Sunday. He used to be a baby. He used to dance like someone had tied a brick to his one elbow and a dozen helium balloons to his other and he was trying to shake them all off. He was my first nephew. I remember the first time I held him. When he ate a crayon and my sister flipped out. When he put a rubber tire from a Tonka on the end of a stick and melted it over an open flame... then proceeded to wave the flaming, dripping plastic mass straight into my knee-cap. I still have a scar. When we were racing down a dirt and gravel hill and he tumbled off his bike and skidded to the bottom, face-first. Don't worry. His face turned out handsome. Too handsome in fact... he's always got a skinny, blonde girlfriend. Now he's got a car. He'll probably get four skinny blonde girlfriends now. Oh Jack. You used to like Barney. Please don't become a jerk. Please don't make your romantic life a revolving door of blonde hair and too many teeth. Please use a little of that time you spend pumping iron on looking at colleges at least 40 miles from home ... ... ... I know it would be weird if we hung out like we used to. We don't have much in common anymore. But you're still my first nephew and I love you.
so there.
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