My 85-year-old uncle and I are on the same page. When you are used to looking at yourself in the mirror once a day, it is agony to do it for 40 minutes straight
It was my uncle’s 85th birthday, so we did a Zoom across three continents. He kicked off with the claim that he was actually 84. On the one hand, you have to believe a man about his own date of birth, and it would be a wild time for him to start lying about his age. On the other hand, if a family can’t lose 20 minutes on whether a man is sure he means 1937, not 1936, those aren’t relatives at all; those are more like friends.
Then we had to do it all again, because my brothers joined late. They have a chimpy dominance thing where whoever is the latest is the mighty silverback. It meant, as ever, that we had to go through key details again for each new arrival, so by the end my uncle had been vaccinated six times.
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