That Creepy Uncle

Perhaps in families larger than ours (only children who marry only children, you know), creepy uncles aren't so rare. In our family, however, we don't have any. We have to look beyond our stubby little family tree to give Ben the weird uncle experience.

Thank goodness for tax season. More to the point, thank goodness for those poor souls who stand at busy intersections dressed up as Uncle Sam and wave at traffic in hopes of....what? Inspiring someone to have their taxes done RIGHT NOW. By a company who believes that credibility comes from a costume rental store. And, may we reflect a moment on how much that job sucks. You dress like Uncle Sam (or the Statue of Liberty) in the freezing cold and wave for hours on end. Have you noticed these people? It's nuts.

As we've driven by the "Sams" in the past week, I've been pointing them out to Ben. Usually saying something like, "Wave at Uncle Sam, Ben. He's waving at you." -or- "Hi, Uncle Sam!" Ben is pretty non-committal about Uncle Sam. I don't know whether he senses the ridiculousness of the "Sam Situation" or if he's just freaked out by strangers waving at him, but today he put me in my place.

H: Look, Ben! There's Uncle Sam. He's waving at us.
B: He's waving at everyone, Mommy. (yes, he used THAT tone.)
H: Sure. Wave to him.
B: No way. He's scary and pooo-key (spooky).
H: Why is he scary? It's friendly to wave at people (by now we've driven down the road and are long past Uncle Sam).
B: That is not my Uncle, Mom. I'm NEVER waving to him. I'm gonna send the Ninja Turtles and Planet Heroes to pie-ya him. I won't even look again.

So there, Liberty Tax Service. You will not be our tax man, nor will you be our uncle.