Hey, Nephew on the Dead.
“Would you look at this bullshit?”
Which bullshit?
“I’m all hippie’d up here. I look like a wook.”
You do not look like a wook.
“I look like a custie.”
Yeah, a little bit.
“Tie-dye, my hair’s too long. What’s Curveball?”
Why?
“I have no idea what it is, but I’m disappointed about it.”
Oh, stop it. You’re adorable.
“This is not my style, Uncle. I’m into vaporwave.”
No, you’re not.
“And chub metal.”
What’s chub metal?
“Metal made by the fat.”
Stop that. You’re not into any form of metal.
“I would kill for a black tee-shirt.”
They do not make black clothes for babies. I mean: they do, but it’s fucking creepy. Babies should wear bright-colored clothing with duckies and spaceships on it.
“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME!”
Save that crap for when you’re a teenager. And for your parents. They’re the ones dressing you, anyway.
“This is all the Guy.”
Yeah, he’s gonna be playing you Dead records and dressing you in lot shirts for a while.
“Anything I can do about this?”
Have you tried pissing, shitting, and puking on him?
“Do you think you’re talking to a newborn here? I piss, shit, and puke on him all the time. And when I’m done? I look him in the eye and laugh my ass off.”
So, just keep doing that.
“Gotcha. Hey Uncle?”
Yeah?
“I love Cheerios so fucking much.”
All babies do.
I have a comment section confession.
There is nothing I love more than buying a niece or nephew, or their children, some shakedown tie-dye onesie, or socks.
When they get older perhaps those wooden toads that make a croaking noise, or the bright parasols.
Shakedown is best place for kid shopping.
I agree 100% with this sentiment. I have extra onesies with lightning bolts in case or emergency!
I agree 100% with this sentiment. I have extra onesies with lightning bolts in case or emergency!