Marvin

It's true, things here, in my little mind, have been a bit craptastic as of late. Thankfully, Hoss and Poopsie were here to come to my aid. I love those guys. Now, for the five of you readers who are still with me...

As I work myself back into me, I think some birthday wishes are in order. Nothing makes me happier than embarrassing a loved one of mine on their special day.

Marvin K. Mooney is what I'll dub the boy. He is my 15-year-old nephew. I read that Dr. Seuss book to him about 80 million times while I baby sat him. "Read it again Aunt Bean," he would say as I closed the book, day-after-day.

Taking you back to when he was shorter than me, cute as a friggin' button and couldn't say my name, I think you'll see why this kid is one of my top ten favorite people.

At some point, Marvin called me something that sounded much more like bean, than Lois. I don't know why nicknames in my family stick like glue. He called me Aunt Bean for years. I think the only reason he stopped is because he hit that really cool "dude" phase.

Marvin was always one to speak his mind. Once, while out enjoying lunch at a nice family restaurant, he stood on the bench seat, pointed to a man walking by. His finger was inches from the man's face. He said, nice and loudly, "Hey Aunt Bean! That guy is bald like Grandpa!"

Wanting to crawl under the table and die, I nervously smiled at the man, with apologetic eyes and whispered to my nephew, "Yes honey. He is. Now please, sit down."

The only time I ever had real troubles with Marvin was once when he was sick. For the most part, he was like most kids when they are sick. He liked to be held and spent much of his time sleeping. On the second day of a really nasty cold, his mother, my sister Mary, gave him Children's Nyquil. She told me he should sleep most of the day and to just let him.

Apparently, my sista never gave the child Nyquil before. They really ought to change the name of that shit to Asshole in a Bottle. I swear to God, this sweet, wonderful, little person, turned into a non-napping, head spinning, spilt pea soup spitting, screaming to make my eardrums bleed, fool. Thankfully, the Asshole in a Bottle eventually wore off and he was back to his sweet self by the next day.



He stayed with me from the time he was about a year old, until he was 5-years-old. Despite his love of Barney, he was a great little kid. Here he is after falling asleep on the floor, watching Barney with Lane 1 and Lane 2.



The truth can now be told. I told Marvin I was taking him to see Barney at my local video store. "It's Barney! It Looks like Barney, but due to International Copyright laws, it's not. Still we should trick all the little kids like it is Barney. Though it's not." He thought it was the real Barney and that was all that mattered.



Look at the proud smile on his little face! This is one of my favorite photographs of Marvin. Man, who doesn't love wearing Ernie slippers and overalls?



Back in time a little farther, we tormented the crap out of that kid dressing him up with odd little props. He was so cute, how could we not? Here he is with my bird Max, with a daisy behind his ear. He really did the tropical look well. You ought to see him in his favorite grass skirt and coconut bra.



Fast forward, to the summer before last. He stayed with us for most of the summer. He went to work with Mr. Lane. He learned how to drive a semi truck on the farm. If nothing else, it was a good driving lesson. Plus, the city boy learned a bit about agriculture. It was also a good time for him to be here for Mr. Lane's birthday. Lane 2 and I made a cake and after a hard day of working with his uncle, Marvin said, "I'll take this side, and you guys can split the rest." He never thought we would actually agree to giving him more than half of the cake, which took up two plates. Here he is laughing, eating and choking. (No, he couldn't finish it.)

I hope today he gets his cake and eats it too. Happy birthday Marvin! Aunt Bean loves you!