Before I write about the reunion

 I might as well tell you about raising hell with my grand niece. She's eight and sort of quiet.

Anyway part of being an uncle is just spending time with the kids and it really doesn't have to be a whole lot. I took her out for a few hours when I was running errands and picked up a few things.

When I picked her up she had just left a gymnastics class and had her hands taped up to prevent blisters from using the bar. I told her to leave the tape on.

We were heading back and I offered her something to drink and she said she wanted chocolate milk so we wandered into a convenience store. There were a few people in it and when she was headed over to the refrigerated case for the milk I looked at her and said to her, 

"Don't grab another beer. You've already had a whole six-pack since lunch!"

She turned and smiled at me and headed over to the dairy case. The guys in line chuckled but the woman went off on me. "You're giving that poor child beer!" she almost screamed, accusingly. I knew I had a live one.

"She's too young for bourbon and I need something to wash the dope out of her system," I calmly replied. "Besides, it's my kid and  the way I raise her is none of your business.

The guys were actually laughing out loud. They knew what I was doing.

"And why are her hands taped up like that," she almost screeched. She was getting pretty worked up.

"She just got back from her boxing lessons," I shot back. "She just won in the fourth round by a knockout. Knocked out a guy a year older and 20 pounds heavier that her."

"What?!" was her shocked reply.

"She's two for two by knockouts. Last weekend she won her first bout my a TKO. Hit the guy so hard he was stumbling around and the ref called the fight," I answered.

By this time the guys watching this spectacle were rolling on the floor and she finally figured out she'd been had.

"I'll bet you think you're funny," she snapped.

"They do," I replied, pointing at the guys.

She left in a huff.

The clerk spoke up, "Her drink is on me," she laughed.

Later when I told that story to someone at the reunion they said that I was lucky she didn't call Family Services. I wonder about that. Even in Massachusetts they would be hard pressed to do a whole lot.

They would find an obviously loved, well fed, clean and well taken care of child with no signs of alcohol or drug use. When it was over and done with the lady would have still come out of it looking like an idiot.



To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY