I hope this blog post finds you well

It was roughly 13 years ago that I became an uncle. A godfather and an uncle at the same time. The “godfunkle,” I called myself. It was something I thought I would be good at. Being the fun uncle, the cool uncle—I can manage that. I will never be a good father, a good husband, a good friend, or a good employee, or really a good anything, but I could be a good uncle. That's just the right amount of minimal work for me to be successful at.

But I was wrong. I'm not the godfunkle. I'm not the fun uncle. I’m not the cool uncle. This weekend with my nieces and nephew has taught me that I'm not the cool uncle. I'm the weird uncle.

I could blame things. I could blame the distance between me and my sister's family, the fact that I don't like to travel to the north in the cold when the weather down here is nicer. I could blame that I don't have summers off anymore, so I don’t have as much time to travel. I could blame #ThePark for making me clomp around like Frankenstein. It probably isn't very endearing to young children. But ultimately, I have to blame myself. I am the reason I'm a bad uncle. And the reason is quite simple: I do not trust the tingle.

The tingle is a powerful component of Uncle Magic. It connects uncle to niece and nephew through the ether of time and space. Even if I'm not near my nieces and nephew, the tingle keeps me close to them. Yet I deny it. I choose not to trust it.

There have been times when I have trusted the tingle. For instance, Amazon wish lists have a powerful connection with the tingle. I can look at the wish list my sister posts for my niece and nephew, and I know which gift to buy. I know it's the pastel Stanley cup. I know it's one of those dogs dressed like he's a fireman. I knew that slime was the right gift without even knowing what slime is. The tingle tells me what the best gift is. Not the most expensive gift, but the best gift, the right gift, the gift that they will like most.

But the wish list tingle is easy to obey. I won’t be there when they open the gift, so there’s no chance of me witnessing their disappointment. And no one in my family would ever tell me that they hated my gift. There’s no chance of failure for an uncle buying from an Amazon wish list. But in person, when I must actually bear witness to the effects of my uncle choices, that is when the fear sets in. That is when I am revealed as a bad uncle.

The past weekend, I drove to visit family, including my nieces and nephew. On the way, I stopped at Buc-ee's to buy snacks for my nieces and nephew, who have never been to a Buc-ee's before. Obviously, I got the basics: beaver nuggets, some jerky, peanut butter caramel popcorn. But I also encountered the gummy wall. Gummy bears, gummy worms, gummy butterflies, gummy sharks. Something drew me to it. And not just because I like Swedish Fish and I wanted to see if Buc-ee's had an equivalent to Swedish Fish. The tingle drew me there.

The tingle told me that I should buy some gummy bears for my niece and nephew, or some gummy worms, or some gummy sharks. But I doubted it. I said, what if they don't like gummies? Some people don't like gummies at all. What if the gummy bears get stuck in their braces? Do they even have braces? I didn’t know, so I didn’t buy any gummy candy.

And, of course, when I get to the Airbnb, what were the snacks that they brought on the plane? Gummies. The kids love gummy candies. They're gaga for gummies. And I had brought them none.

Also at Buc-ee's, I saw those little things you put inside Crocs to decorate them. The tingle told me to buy my nieces and nephew some Buc-ee Beaver Croc decorations. But I doubted the tingle. I thought do kids still wear Crocs? Is that still a thing? So I didn't buy any. And what do all three have on their feet when I get to the Airbnb? Crocs. They could be wearing Buc-ee Beaver on their feet, be the talk of the school back up north where there are no Buc-ee's. But instead, they have nothing. Empty, plain crocs, with nary a regional gas station mascot to be found.

Tonight, because of my uncle failures, my nieces and nephew will snack on a limited selection of gummy snacks with unadorned Crocs on their feet. I have failed them as I have failed myself and I have failed my duty as an uncle. I have not trusted the tingle when it guides me to the things that could demonstrate my worth as an uncle. I will never be the cool uncle.

And yes, I’ve thought about rebranding myself as a different sort of uncle. I could have gone to Cici’s with them and scarfed an amount of pizza that could impress my nieces and nephews, that could show them that I am capable of something. But that's not cool uncle behavior. That's wacky uncle behavior. And I'm not the wacky uncle. I don't have that kind of personality. Yes, I have the Hawaiian shirts, but the vibe isn't there. I'm either the cool uncle or I am nothing, and today I am nothing.