Ah, Those Summer Memories

I thought I'd take a break from the rigors of politics and news this week to talk about the joys of summer. Ah, the pleasant memories of kids piled into the car to visit the wonders of the open road in America's heartland or spend time camping together in the splendor of nature.

I can still hear those happy little voices ringing in my ears. "Mom, he's looking at me!" "She won't stop touching me!" "I gotta go to the bathroom!" "I'm hungry!" "I'm going to turn this car right around!" Joyous, thoughts aren't they?

I have one brother and one sister but both are several years older than I am. Because of the age difference, I essentially grew up with their kids instead - four of them - all girls.

I became an uncle at the age of 8 when my sister's eldest daughter Melissa was born. She's the closest person in my family to my age and more of a sister than a niece.

For a few years, she was pretty easy to entertain. At least, until she learned to walk and talk and then all bets were off. The same could be said for the other three as well.

My sister has two other daughters, Jodi and Tiffany. My brother's daughter, Jessica, was around a lot too. By the way, in case you're wondering, there's no real point to changing their names in this story, after all I've embarrassed them before - why stop now?

One of our family's favorite activities in the summer was camping. If one of my nieces wasn't trying to drown the other, then they were arguing about who got to sleep in grandpa's camper instead of in a tent outside. At some point during the night, the quiet of the campground was generally interrupted by shrill yelling emanating from deep inside one of the tents.

"Something's biting me," a young voice would shout, muffled by the nylon dome that protected them from the monsters lurking outside. My brother Gary, ever the helpful one, would flatly reply, "Bite it back and go to sleep." Oh yea, that was useful. This would go on for several minutes until exhaustion set in and they finally fell asleep. Like with most things that irritated my nieces, just my presence meant that somehow I was at fault for most of their problems - like how they never quite got along with the pony I had growing up.

Yep. I had a pony and Ringo was his name (insert kids song puns here) and they wanted to ride him - but only once. After they'd been thrown or bitten they were pretty much done with the beast and just yelled at me, as if somehow I was to blame for the animal's bad temper. Really he just never liked being ridden, but then again, maybe he knew something I didn't.

Oddly, lots of things were my fault, whether I was there or not. One time, Jodi tried to chop Jessica's finger off with a Boy Scout hatchet. Yep - you guessed it - my fault but it wasn't my hatchet. I wasn't even there! Another time, Melissa's Mork & Mindy doll went missing - yeah, it was the 70's, ok? I was unfairly accused of that mishap too. We never did find that doll?

To be fair, I wasn't the easiest kid to get along with either - as I am sure they will loudly attest after reading this. But then, what 12 year old boy would manage to stay sane while surrounded by that much pre-adolescent female attitude. Looking back, it's true I may have said things that set them off from time to time.

That might explain why I often had the words, "I'm gonna throw this," screeched at me, immediately followed by a whizzing noise from some heavy object flying past me and missing my cranium by mere inches. But that was a long time ago, and we're all grown up.

Jodi and Melissa live out of state, but Jessica and Tiffany are still nearby. I see them on the odd holiday or visit to the farm to see their grandparents. Now I have one great-niece, Emma, and a great-nephew on the way.

Wow, where did the years go? It all went too fast. Life seems so much easier when you're 10. I'd give anything to sit in the back of that car again and ... "Mom, make her stop looking at me!"

Columnist Gery L. Deer is an independent journalist from Jamestown. Read more at www.gerydeer.com