Shadows of our former selves

The older I get the less I have in common with my
friends. They seem to be turning into bizarre
caricatures of themselves. I'm sure the same is true
for me, I just notice it about them. All the little
things they used to do that might have once been
described as endearing characters traits because they
natural now seem forced, overblown, really obvious.
Even the way some of them laugh seems like they are
trying really hard to act like themselves when they
were 16, 18 or 21.

Most of them have kids who have taken all that was
good about them and squeezed it dry, I think. Those
little parasites. Don't get me wrong, I love the
little bastards as much as someone who is not legally
required to take care of their every need possibly
can, but I can see what they are doing to these
friends of mine who used to never get pissed off. Now,
they not only lose their tempers to the point it makes
me uncomfortable, they do it while their kids laugh at
them. I'm used to making people uncomfortable with MY
emotions; people don't make ME uncomfortable.

And these kids, man. Juni Schonberg sits on my
stomach, stares deep into my nose and asks me why I
have so many hairs in my nose. Like I have an answer
to that. Then he lifts up my shirt to look at my
stomach, then uses me for a slide all in the space of
about five minutes. How am I supposed to respond to
that stuff? Why isn't he scared of me? Do I want him
to be? No, but if he were I might get a moments peace.

But I do like being called Uncle Greg.

I guess that is the secret. Kids take and take and
take but in that moment when they give you a big hug
and make you feel really loved, it almost makes the
hell they put you through seem worth it.