Funny-silly uncles

The evening sunshine in the back yard dances across a gray haired man playing with two little blond girls -- suddenly I drop more than 30 years and see a yard hundreds of miles away. The little girls look much the same, but the man is far younger with thick black hair. The antics, the jokes, the fun. It's silly-funny uncle fun, but now he's the great-uncle and the little girls are the next generation of the original children.

I used to love watching the three originals back those more than 30 years. Sometimes they were on their feet with games and "pony rides" and other times they were flat on their bellies, all three of them, heads close together as they explored worms and bugs deep in the grass. Thanks to the silly-funny uncle, the little girls moved to Asia with absolutely NO fear of insects.

When the uncle married and had his own children, there was a slight hiccup of fear that maybe, just maybe, nieces wouldn't be important anymore. But that fear was never realized. The silly-funny uncle remained just as much of a treasure and the nieces happily took care of their little cousins. Their younger sister, the age of the cousins, took them on as brothers for life. Eventually she moved north to work for the silly-funny uncle and enjoyed adult conversation.

It's time to eat and the Bear announces that SHE will sit by HIM. Throughout dinner there are comparisons of menu choices, amounts of food in the mouth, and who's got the cleanest plate. Bear banters with this man she hardly knew an hour ago as if he was all hers, and so he is. At one point she scolds him for calling her grandfather his brother.

"He's not your brother," she says with certainty. "He's my Poppa."
"But your Poppa is my brother," says funny uncle, "My much older brother!"

Bear ponders this relationship. Can gray haired men be brothers?

When it's time for dessert funny uncle makes a big scene of eating the salad in front of him. "This is dessert," he tells Bear. Bear protests loudly. "No," he continues, "We're having salad for dessert. Don't you like salad." Well, yes, but not for dessert.

I'm making coffee inside the house when Bear comes and tugs at my back pockets. "Grammy, I want a different dessert."

"A different dessert?" I'm puzzled. "We're having brownies and ice cream. Oh wait, did you think your funny uncle was serious when he said we were having salad for dessert?"

There's a moment of hesitation as the child-who-trusts-her-adults wrestles with the child-who-loves-pretend, a final hard look, and then a low chuckle from the Bear.

"Naaah, he's just being silly....isn't he?"