Adventures in Uncle-ing

For the first time in recent memory, I was in charge of wiping someone else's nose.

I took my 7-year-old godson, Gary, and his 4-year-old brother, Nathan, to see Disney's "Brother Bear." They both had colds but braved the coughing and sneezing for an afternoon with their Uncle Scott.

But I'm not their uncle. I am something to them, just not the standard uncle. However, "Uncle Scott" is better than being called "the guy who used to work with their dad and now is the godfather of Gary III and comes to see him play little league baseball."

I'm a good friend of their father, Gary Kurbis Jr., whom I met while working at Bob's Amoco, and their mother Michelle. I was an usher in Gary and Michelle's wedding in 1995. At the time, I guess I was their ninth best friend.

Having no kids of my own and not really being responsible for anyone's kids on an extended basis, this day was something of an adventure for me.

Once we were in the car, we had a 25-minute ride to the theater.

"What do these kids listen to these days?" I thought to myself. "And do I have any of that with me?"

I had the perfect idea: flatulent sound effects from an Oklahoma radio DJ on a prank phone call. What 4-year-old and 7-year-old boy wouldn't relish such a thing?

Giggles filled the Prizm and made me the best non-real uncle ever.

We then got to the theater, ordered some snacks and watched "Brother Bear."

I sat between the boys and shared some popcorn and monitored the soda intake.

"You better save room for McDonald's," I told them in between applications of a Kleenex to their noses.

The movie was a big hit. And how could it not be with some talking moose and rams that yelled back at their own echoes? Priceless animated comedy.

Back in the car, Gary and Nathan again wanted "more of those noises, Uncle Scott."

I instead opted for dinner talk.

"What are you guys going to eat?"

"I don't know," said Nathan. "Let's see what they got."

As if McDonald's had received some deep-dish pizza on accident, throwing the menu all outta whack.

We found a booth in plain view of the playland. They quickly lost focus on their food as their eyes and energy were now on the giant slide and tunnels of fun.

Not knowing how much they usually ate, I couldn't tell if they really were full after three bites of a burger. Maybe my non-uncle-ness was shining through. Besides, if they ate too much and then ran around only to get sick, I wouldn't want to clean that up.

"Eat a little more, please, and then you can play. Thank you," I said to them, as their cheeks filled with fries on either side.

They befriended some kids in the play area and soon made up their own games, complete with home base that kept them safe. But they quickly got bored.

"How about I time you from beginning to end going through the maze?"

"Yeah, that'll be awesome," they exclaimed.

And with that, my uncle crown was back on firmly. Pure genius, I tell ya.

On their way home, we stopped by to pick up my friend Sue.

"Listen to their new favorite tune," I said to her.

"Scott!!!" she exclaimed, as if I gave them a six-pack, a dirty magazine and some cigarettes.

"What? They love it. Look how they're laughing."

She shook her head and was yet again reassured why we're just friends.

"Thanks Uncle Scott," Gary and Nathan told me, along with a hug.

"Now don't be making any of those noises around mom and dad. It's our little secret," I reminded them.

I hope they forget that secret by the time I get home in March.

 

Scott Deininger is a standup comedian from Shorewood. See more of his work via his Web site, www.ShaveYourHead.com

02/01/04