Paulie and the Tickle Monster

Dean has been my friend since kindergarten and that's been a long time ago too. We were each others best men at our weddings and our families are like siblings. His son Paul is like my nephew and so I treat him accordingly. That means that I harass him incessantly at each and every opportunity!

One day I was driving a limousine by their house and it broke down. I secured a ride for the bride and groom but now what do I do? I'm about 30 miles away from home and it's about 10PM. I walk over to Paulie's house and knock on the door. His mother answers and I tell her what happened and that I need a ride. It was completely inconvenient but necessary.

Now here comes Paulie from somewhere in the house, sees me and runs into the bathroom and locks the door from inside. The gauntlet has been thrown down! I start banging on the door yelling his name and he's laughing hysterically but in a panic because Uncle Rich is here and he'll tickle me!

So I'm banging on the door and he's laughing thinking that I can't get him. His mother got me a screwdriver so I start to take the screws out of the door handle all the while banging on the door. I pop the handle through and now he's panicking! I stick the screw driver into the door handle hole, push back and gained access!

Unbeknownst to me, Paul had spread talcum powder all over the bathroom like the bottle was a tennis racket and the balls were coming fast and furious. After he ran out of powder, he tried to stop me by squirting soft soap all over. It didn't work and I tickled the hell out of his 9 year old ass! His mother is laughing, and a friend of hers is puzzled by who I am. Barb finally says, "That's Crazy Uncle Rich!" I guess my antics have been known for a while but connecting my face to it was new to some.

We finally come out of the bathroom covered in dust and looking like a 50's creep show ghost and the mess was everywhere. Barb stopped laughing and said, "Thanks for the mess Uncle Rich" but she gave me a ride home anyway probably to spare the rest of the house.

I just saw Paul not too long ago and he's now engaged and all grown up. Since he had announced that he was engaged, I took pity on him-just this once-and did not cover him with the silly string that I brought. I gave him the can so he could do some mayhem though.

The dinner was over, I met his fiancee and we were all walking out to our cars when I hear his dad whisper, "do it!" Paul took my silly string and tried to squirt me but he was too far away and the stuff hit the ground. We laughed and hugged his parents to leave and I hugged him too. But I took the silly string out of his pocket and coated his ass but good!

Now everyone is laughing, including Paul and his fiancee, the restaurant was happy that we did this outside and there was no talcum powder anywhere. I said it before and I'll say it again. I may grow old but I refuse to grow up!

YMCA Princesses

I joined the YMCA Indian Princess program some years ago at the behest of some friends of mine that were members. This is a club for fathers and daughters and open to anyone. I balked at the institution as it didn't sound too politically correct but there were some guys there of American Indian heritage who said that it was OK so what the heck.

My elder daughter was about 9-10 or something like that and we needed to pick Indian names for ourselves. She wanted to be called "Puddin" because that's what my brother calls his wife when he wants to cork her off. We decided not to use that name and she started to think about another name. In the mean time I concluded that my name should be "Breaking Wind." 

She got a big smile and said that she wanted to be "Little Breaking Wind!" I laughed and asked if she knew what it meant. She said, "It means farts!" so if she was good with it then so was I. Some of the other dads didn't think that it was a good idea but their daughters names were "Lady Lovely Locks" or "My Little Pony" so my daughters name was a little more in tune.

We joined the Chippewa tribe and there were about 11-12 other tribes and all of the kids had their names picked out. Each tribe has a chief and the nation has a leader called Big Bear and then his name would follow. I wanted so very badly to be Big Bear because my title and name would be Big Bear Breaking Wind. It wasn't to be though as I did not make the top spot when the election came about. Maybe they knew....hmmmmmmmm...

The YMCA has the Y Indian Guides for fathers and sons. Again, we had to pick names for ourselves and since I was in the same group for the girls club, Braking Wind stuck. My son however, had a brilliant thought about a name. His was "Festering Sore" which was about the right description of little boys then so it was a go from the start. Again, the dads were a mite alarmed but it worked out for the best anyway.

The youngest comes of age and she wants to be in the Princesses too. She said that she wanted to be "Little, Little Breaking Wind" but that joke had gotten old by then so we settled on "Flaming Arrow" since she has bright red hair.

All things being equal, it was a fun time and I'm glad that I took the time to watch my kids grow up. Now if I can grow up too......who am I kidding? I may grow old but I'll never grow up!