Hey, Nephew on the Dead. You look adorable.
“I always do.”
But you look especially delicious at the moment.
“Please don’t refer to me as ‘delicious.'”
I must, because you’re scrumptious and I want to eat you right up.
“A surprising number of adults have told me that.”
Evolutionary Psychology would point to the lion, and suggest that you were seen as a threat to the adult’s genetic line.
“Evolutionary Psychology sounds pretty stupid.”
It is. Good call.
“I think it’s just a saying.”
Yeah. I’m not actually a nepophage.
“Pardon?”
It just means “nephew-eater,” but I mixed up Latin and Greek to make it sound official and scientific.
“That’s a good trick.”
It’s a great trick. Stick with me, kid. You’ll go far.
“Uncle?”
Uh-huh?
“What am I wearing? And what is everyone else wearing? What is going on? That’s the general ask here, Uncle: what the hell is going on?”
You are wearing a costume. You’re at a party and everyone is dressed up.It is Halloween.
“Gotcha. You realize none of that made any sense to me, right?”
You’re a smart boy.
“Well, thanks, but I just had my first Swedish Fish. Not one hour ago. So no matter how bright or thick I actually am, I lack experience. I’m still filling in a lot of blanks about reality here.”
I love you so much.
“What’s a costume? Is it clothes? Because these seem like clothes, but not really. None of my other shirts have abs. Is that the new thing?”
No.
“Is this Hypebeast?”
No.
“Am I Scumcore?”
Costume is a subset of the greater set [clothes] and refers to any garment meant to disguise the wearer’s identity and/or project a false one. It belongs to a grouping of high-context outfits. Such clothing includes wedding gowns, sporting uniforms, and mascot suits.
“When can you wear a costume?”
Well, legally, you can dress as Batman all year long.
“God bless America.”
But you wouldn’t have an easy go of life that way. Tough getting a job. They won’t let you be a bank teller like that.
“Isn’t that racism?”
I think so. Anyway, costumes are just for costume parties. Or comic book conventions, but I think your mother is going to raise you better than to be a cosplayer. Your dad would’ve already turned you into Rocket Racoon and hit the Javits Center if he had any crafting ability.
“I can see that.”
Don’t be a cosplayer. I won’t have it in the family. Muddies up the blood.
“Weird. Okay, so you can only wear a costume to a costume party. Sorted. Now: what costume am I wearing?”
You’re Rocky Horror and your parents are Brad and Janet.
“Then why do I have festive armbands?”
Because there’s no such thing as a baby Rocky Horror costume, so your folks went with the Ultimate Warrior.
“Didn’t he go all Nugent?”
Oh, yeah. Long time ago.
“Rocky Horror. This is a movie?”
A musical. You should get your parents to play it for you. Or just say “Cortana, play Rocky Horror Soundtrack” out loud.
“What’s it about?”
Violent homosexuality.
“Ooh, nifty.”
And there’s aliens and Meatloaf sings a number.
“All the better. On to the next topic: what is a Halloween?”
It’s a holiday. Wait. It’s not legally a holiday. It’s an observance. I have no idea what the federal status of Halloween is, Nephew. That’s on me.
“Still love ya.”
Nice. Anyway, Halloween is the day everyone puts on their costumes. And there’s a parade and trick-or-treating and whatnot.
“Why?”
Life is dreary if not ornamented with fancy and frolic.
“Stop talking like that.”
Why? Why not? Why do anything? It’s a tradition. The Pagans invented it or something like that. Halloween is fun. It’s a non-family holiday with a blanket amnesty on besotted shenanigans. You’re allowed to do all sorts of stupid stuff on Halloween.
“What about me? Do I get to do stupid stuff?”
Did you have a Swedish Fish?
“I did.”
There you go. You’re running wild, Nephew.
“It was excellent. And I liked the texture of it. I didn’t know that consistency existed in nature.”
Oh, it doesn’t. There’s nothing natural about a Swedish Fish.
“I don’t care. I’m gonna eat more of ’em.”
Just be careful. Didn’t you run full-tilt boogie into the wall twenty minutes ago?
“I did, yeah. I’m gonna take a gamble and say that you don’t clearly recall learning how to walk.”
Correct call. Lost to memory’s appetite.
“It’s a process. There’s a bit of a learning curve. Once I get myself moving, I’m at best 85% in charge. At best. Momentum and inertia are my co-pilots. There’s a good chance on any jaunt that I’ll just be along for the ride after five or six steps. And, you know, I wobble quite a bit.”
You do. You wobble like an angel.
“Right. Well, sometimes I wobble at just the right frequency to start a resonance loop and this gives me a huge burst of speed. Like hitting the nitrous button.”
Babies are weird.
“You have no idea.”
Recent Comments