My middle nephew, the second son of my sister, is a bit wild and crazy like his father, who has many strange tales from his youth.
At their church there is a table every Sunday loaded with baked goods, mostly breads. I had just bought quite a few bratwurst and hot dogs at the market, so I nabbed two packages of hot dog buns.
After the service this week as we walked by the tables my nephew noticed the remaining buns and, like a speck of space dust flying too close to Jupiter, instantly gravitated towards them. At first his mother was going to say, “No, put them back.” But then she rethought the situation and asked if he wanted the buns as a Christmas treat. He immediately took her up on the offer, with glee.
On Christmas Eve, as a joke I put a package of buns in a big box, wrapped it up and placed it under the tree. I snuck a ten dollar bill, the real present, under the buns. Upon opening it, however, he seemed to think more of the hot dog buns, though he liked the money too.
Little did I know that he likes hot dogs buns much. I know that he loves eating just about any bread. But plain ol’ buns? The cheap kind? Mind you there’s no hot dog, no ketchup, just the bun.
He inhales them. He has eaten six today, while his mom warns him that Christmas dinner will be served shortly. He even promised her that he’d eat some ham, which she reminded him.
It’s funny what people treasure.
Earlier today he was in quite a grumpy mood. I thought talking to him might help, but it didn’t.
“So are you having a good Christmas?”
I rattled off all of the gifts he’d received.
“I’ve had better” was the gist of his conversation.
Later he had a bit of meltdown, what I’d call a tantrum. Thankfully that ended and the boys are all having a good time playing with their father, uncle and, yes, even mother, who was initiated into the Madden NFL world.
My nephews are strange, fun little creatures.