Billy Bob
2002-07-15, 9:43 a.m.

I had planned to work a bit on my journal article for which a rough draft is due in a couple of weeks.

I put my various bits of research into piles...a productive exercise if I do say so myself.

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I have an older sister and she is probably my best friend in the whole entire world. Unfortunately, I haven't seen her since Christmas...but I'm planning a trip to see her in early August. She has many fun things planned for the trip.

She called yesterday and I put on my very best sad-yet-resigned voice and the conversation went like this:

Me, sad yet resigned: "I'm glad you called."

Her, instantly on guard: "Why?"

Me, sad yet resigned: "It's about my trip...I don't think I'll be able to make it."

Her, agitated: "Is it your job? Will they not let you off work? You need to tell them that you deserve a vacation...you are much better than that other law clerk. Is it the money? I'll send you the money."

Me, feeling somewhat bad: "Dude, I was just joking...my flight gets in at eight...silly sister."

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Amazingly enough, she did not hang up at that point in the conversation. However, she did say that I was evil.

Then she went on to the reason she called. She wanted to talk to me about the things I tell my wee little nieces (said in a leprechaun voice because sometimes, it's fun to say things in leprechaun voices).

Let my preface this with saying that I absolutely adore the kids. But they are so much fun to mess with. Besides it builds character.

When my oldest niece was younger, I would begin conversations with: "So, I hear you have ancestors."

She would argue with me about it...getting progessively angrier. That is, until my brother-in-law told her what "ancestors" really meant...kind of took the fun out of it.

So, I had to figure out something else to do with the youngest one. She's quite a bit like my little brother. She's obviously going to be brilliant but a little lacking in common sense...after all, she just realized that she has five toes on each foot.

(sidenote: Once when my wee little brother and I were much younger, I mixed water and dirt and convinced him it was chocolate milk and he drank it.)

So, I decided to start calling the youngest Billy Bob, I even got her sister to join in the fun.

She would angrily and quite vehemently insist that her name was not Billy Bob. Finally, I told her that her parents were joking when they told her that her name was K and her name was really Billy Bob.

Apparently, I finally managed to almost convice her that her name really was Billy Bob and she went to my sister quite upset about the possibility.

I don't think my sister is ever going to let me talk to her kids again.