Oh, what an eventful day yesterday was. Spent it playing with my nieces. And while it's fun spending time with them, I tend to try and amuse myself by... well basically lying to them and trying to convince them that ridiculously untrue things are, in fact, true. Like I had them convinced that when I made them waffles for breakfast, my secret ingredient was blood. Human blood. And not just any human.. my blood. I took a paring knife and mimed cutting myself, deftly covered my wrist in ketchup, and started screaming in pain.
I had 'em. They bought it hook line and sinker. Now granted, I am assering my intellectual dominance over a 6 year old and a 4 year old. But nevertheless, I owned them.
I went to the sink to wash the "blood" off. Only I faked that too. In order to sell that it really was a cut, I showed it to them after I had "washed the blood off", and... Oh my God! It's still bleeding!
Kaileen, the six year old, now became wary of the whole situation. "That's ketchup," she said.
"You're insane," I tell her. "I'm bleeding! Now, get me a Band-Aid! I'm gonna attempt to stent the bleeding long enough to bandage it."
Very unaffected, she walked over to her step stool, placed it in front of the cabinet, and went and got me a Band-Aid (A Barbie Band-Aid, no less!)
I quickly placed the bandage onto my "cut". She still wasn't convinced. "I didn't see a cut, Uncle."
"Well, there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that, Kaileen. I'm Jesus."
"Yes, I am Jesus." This hole was getting deep. "You see, Jesus has the ability to heal himself instantly." (I think he can. Or am I thinking of Peter Petrelli? Eh, either way.)
"Well, if it's healed, why do you need the Band-Aid?"
"Precautionary measures," I tell her. She's too damn smart.
And that was the end of my blaspheming for the day. So we decided (and by "we" I mean "they") we should play every board game in existence. Yay! So after six hours, and what seemed like 1,000 different versions of Candyland, I thought we were done. Silly me.
"So, Uncle, what game do you want to play next?"
"Ugh. I want to punch myself in the face."
"You do that, And I'm going to get out Othello," Kaileen cheerily says. I love her.
So finally, hours later it seems, the day ends. Their parents show up to take them home. I excuse myself to use the bathroom. Big mistake. When I return, I am immediately attacked.
My sister, a nurse, rushes up to me and wants to remove my bandage and check on my laceration. Apparently, in the 2 minutes I was gone, the whole story came out. Blood in the waffles, giant gory cut, Barbie Band-Aid... the whole shebang.
"Is your arm OK?" my sister asks. "Let me see the cut."
Then, my brother-in-law chimes in. Oh, did I mention he is a devout Mormon (unfortunately)?
"Sooooo...... You're Jesus?"
Oh crap. I knew I would suffer for the sins of the world... but so soon?