The Defeat of Hossman

Before you read my little post here and laugh or cry or punch someone in the face, take a minute to once again go to Circle of Moms and vote for Hossman one more time. The contest ends today. And unless a miracle happens, I can't make the top 25. But I can make the top 50 which is still something that would be cool. Sure, it's like dating the ugly sister. But the ugly sister always puts out. I don't know what that has to do with anything, but I just like the saying. Now enjoy a special edition Tuesday blog as we were back in Texas all week visiting family and creating awkward moments.


I should start this by saying that I did not mean any harm to come to Uncle Bricksalesman. It was not my intention to humiliate him in anyway or to destroy his ego. He's a good man, a great uncle to my kids and to all his nieces and nephews. He's funny, personable and no longer talks about what degree Celsius bricks are baked at. He's the type of guy that would actually listen to you as you tell your story about how you made a funny HTML mistake so your banner ad ran at 10 pixels instead of 100. The rest of us would be cutting ourselves under the table like a jacked up teen girl who had just finished Twilight. The pain means he loves me.

He's a likable guy, a very likable guy. And that is the problem.

So it was with somewhat of a heavy heart that I set out to destroy him. It was intentional and it was premeditated. It was not by accident. It was not by chance. However, it was necessary.

You see, he's too likable. All the nieces and nephews think that he's just the greatest thing in the world. He's the reason that the sun comes up in the morning. He's the reason that Santa Claus can get down chimneys (they are made of brick). He's the Alpha and the Omega to them. And thus, even to my own children, I am not. This is a problem.

I want to be the cool, badass uncle. I can't be though because I have to be the responsible parent. I am Dad and even though dad still kicks ass, he is still Dad. That means that he has to lay down the law, he has to do timeouts, he has to say no. What does Super Great Uncle Fantastic Bricksalesman have to do? Eat a sandwich and be awesome.

But I still want to be the cool uncle, the ones that all the nieces and nephews (including my own children) think is just super awesome. Right now, I'm just big fat uncle Hoss. I think I should be more. Whenever something great happens, even in my own house, my children give Uncle Bricksalesman the credit. That new toy that Dad just bought for them. Uncle Bricksalesman must have told me to do that. The cartoons that I'm turning on? They are Uncle Bricksalesman's favorite so I have to turn them on. And so on, and on and on. After 5 years, I got tired of it.

So I became the Goldfinger to Uncle Bricksalesman's Bond. Except my evil cat was killed by my wife because she got pooped on while sleeping. Different blog, very funny, go find it.

This weekend was a family get together. All the nieces and nephews would be there. And so would Uncle Bricksalesman who would probably come sliding down a god damn rainbow while riding a unicorn. But this time I had his number.

Several weekends ago I visited my niece and nephew whose parents are hippies. They have strict rules in the house. Organic is better, the compost goes in the back and absolutely no T.V. Ever. When they left the kids alone with me for 3 hours, I introduced them to a great thing called the Iphone and Netflix. Ponyo seems to be our favorite. And after that, we enjoyed a nice rousing game of Angry Birds. Top that Uncle Assheel! I am laying seeds of his destruction.

I knew I would get reamed out about it and I did. Within 10 minutes of the family reunion my sister in law tore into me about respecting their parenting choices and claims of being passive aggressive were thrown at my head. It was a bit brutal. But I smiled and I laughed because I also knew that the kids REMEMBERED how cool Uncle Hoss is now! He let us watch cartoons AND he's taking all the heat for it.

Top that motherfucker.

But I wasn't done. No, that was just planting the seed with the children. It was time to play the endgame. Super Uncle Awesome over there can't top this.

We stayed by a river while on our little Texas family reunion. A river that contained fish. Kids love fish. They love the slimyness of fish. They love screaming "ewe" and "gross" and yet they all have to touch them. But how to get the fish? What magic do we use? What matter of tools do we employ?

Hmmmm. How about the 4 brand new sweet ass awesome fishing poles that Uncle Hoss bought! Suck. On. That.

2 Barbie poles for the two girls. A Star Wars pole for my nephew and a Disney Cars pole for my own son. And I made sure that they knew that these were from Uncle Hoss. Boom goes the dynamite.

We take the kids out by the lake. We get some slimy worms. We put them on hooks. We talk about safety. We put our lines in the water and we wait with anticipation. And wait. And wait. Nothing. We change spots. Nothing. I rebait hooks. Nothing.

Until Uncle Bricksalesman shows up.

"Hey kids!" he bellows. Come over here and fish! He's sitting on the dock and of course all four children head his way like the little cult members that they are.

"Why don't we put our hooks right here." Then he shows them how to cast and how to watch. He jokes with them. He plays with them. And within 5 minutes my niece pulls out the first fish. Everyone goes crazy. Everyone is screaming how great Uncle Bricksalesman is. 5 minutes more go by. My daughter pulls up her first one ever. Uncle Bricksalesman gets the hug.

At times Uncle Bricksalesman takes the pole from them while the kids go and play. I see the game he's playing. He is actually catching the fish and then calling them over so that they can pull it up. As soon as they grab the pole he says "look, you might have a fish on there." ever so innocent. And of course they do because he caught it. But they don't know that.

At one point I thought my son had called him on this. He had my son reel up yet another fish but it wasn't' on his pole. So my son refused to accept that this was a fish he had caught himself. What does Uncle Bricksaleman do? He grabs the right pole, grabs my son, sits down, and catches yet another fish. And another . And another. I have been out maneuvered.

And with so little effort I have been vanquished. It is over. During the weekend the kids caught 26 perch and 3 bass. All by fishing where Uncle Bricksalesman told them to, doing it how he told them to do it.

And I see the smiles on their faces. I see the absolute screaming joy of my son when he caught his first fish. I see how my niece cannot contain her excitement or how my nephew lights up each time he holds up a new fish.

Uncle Bricksalesman gives them a hug then picks up the Barbie fishing pole. He sits back down and puts the hook in the water. He has defeated me and my plots by just being who he is.

He is Uncle Bricksalesman. And I sir, am not.

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