What it takes to raze a child

Last week when I was in Toronto, Sandor and I went to go visit my Aunt and Uncle.

Over a wild and crazy game of "Wizard", it came about that they had been over at my cousin James' place the night before, helping him and his wife Angie paint their Christmas village.

It was at this moment that the world as I knew it collapsed - I was finally cooler than my older cousin.  A Christmas village?  When did James retire?  Since when can you go straight from 28 to 60?

Sandor and I both choked.  My (now-retired) Aunt looked at me sharply.  "What?" 

"Well," I said, searching wildly for an answer that wasn't going to get me kicked under the table.  "It's just that...wow...I mean, we don't even have our own house yet, and here James and Angie have a whole village...wow..."  Blink blink.  Pause. 

I kicked Sandor.  "Yeah," he said.  "It's just SO...wow."

My Aunt smiled and patted my hand.  "Don't worry, honey.  There's lots of time."

When James and Angie came over a few minutes later, I captured the following photo, which details the sort of damage that overexposure to Christmas villages can irrevocably cause in the non-retired:

It's a shame.  He was such a talented young man.  It's terrible what Michael's can do to a person.  I don't know why crafts are legal in this country.

I'd like to note here that the scientists are right: addictive behavior is transferable in family units. After being influenced by my older cousin's habit, yesterday I  was motivated to experiment with the Christmas village gateway drug: the gingerbread house.   Being truly victimized by my own temptations, I was helpless when we saw a gingerbread kit at the supermarket, and immediately acquiesced to Abby's demand that we purchase one.  Like true pushers, we forced Adam to join us after offering a him a small taste of the icing.  After that, it was nearly impossible to keep any of the good(ie)s for ourselves:

The disembodied hands in the lower right corner belong to Adam, who is furtively trying to sneak jube-jubes off the table without getting smacked.

Here is a better photo, where you can see the drunken peppermint snowman passed out on the right.  Abby assures us that the yellow thing on the left is a menorah.

Talk about a sugar high.

Comments

[James]

--I was finally cooler than my older cousin--

Really, that isn't too hard... I mean, look at me! Did you ever see me as such? Wow. Your standards must be very low. Hehe. Oh, and the village... its very hard to resist the very persuasive (read: puppy dog) eyes of my wife. Many times I just buckle...

--When did James retire?--

Sometime in 2030ish... If it could only be sooner... I believe I've got just over 10,000 days to go.

Ick.

Oh, now its off to the Uncles place on my lunch break to fix their computer. I've decided that I firmly fall into the "IT Generation". How cool could I ever be?