Slurpee In His Hand

I picked up my ten-year-old nephew a few days ago. We didn't have a destination, not the park, or the ice cream shop, or even the bookstore. But I knew he was bored on this hot summer day with time on his hands while my niece and her mom shopped, and as my brother slept after working the graveyard shift. We stopped by 7-11 and I purchased my nephew a Slurpee and we were off. I played The Almost Famous soundtrack in my car since I abhor the radio, at least radio around here. So I'm always playing a CD usually rock genre. I like everything from The Rolling Stones to Radiohead to The Beach Boys to Nirvana. My nephew was so cute sitting beside me with his black bangs, healthy full cheeks, and big dark eyes.

In his sweet boyish voice he said to me "Auntie, if you weren't around, my sister and I would only know the Beatles" since that is the only cool rock band my brother has ever introduced them to. "But because you're around", he continued, "we know all the cool bands!" It felt good that he acknowledged this. It was true that I introduced my niece and nephew to a lot of things like good music, books, TV shows, movies, and yes, even Slurpees. I am, after all, the most American-minded adult in the family.

The song "The Wind" by Cat Stevens, then played which is a lovely little tune and I couldn't help but feel sentimental with him in the passenger seat, a little ten-year-old boy with a Slurpee in his hand. I realized this was the only summer he would be ten and that his childhood would soon be over; and that there was nothing I could do to slow down time. So even though we weren't doing anything special but taking a drive, I knew that this moment in time with him would become a fond and dear memory to come. And I could only hope that he'd always see me as the coolest auntie.

 

 

Olivia McGuire