A Death In The Family

I just left my dad’s house yesterday after spending a few days with him ringing in the New Year. Before I left, my dad told me about an uncle I never knew I had. He was my dad’s older brother who died at an early age (seven years old). Even though my dad was only five years old at the time he remembers all the details like it was yesterday.

Dad: Did I ever tell you about your uncle James?

Me: What uncle James?

Dad: He was my big brother, but he died when we were both real young.

Me: I’m sorry, no, I didn’t know. Tell me about him, what happened to him?

Dad: James was only seven years old when he died, and I was just shy of six. I looked up to him so much. I wanted to go everywhere he went and do everything he did.

The only thing James did that I wouldn’t do was eat dog food. He loved the stuff. Ma caught him eating it one time and she liked to of had a fit. She tanned his hide pretty good, but that didn’t stop James. Every chance he got he was in that dog food.

Ma was pretty concerned and took James to the doctor because of it. Ma’s fears were confirmed when the doctor told her that James had to stop eating the dog food or it would kill him.

Ma started hiding the dog food, but James kept finding and eating it. Three weeks later he was dead.

Me: Did it poison him?

Dad: No, he laid down in the middle of the road to lick his balls and a truck ran him over.

Me:

That’s my dad for you. You can’t be in the same room with him without your BS detector set to ultra sensitive. If he did have a brother that ate dog food, it didn’t kill him, but it might have given him a shiny coat and a healthy glow.