WWWF

I don't know my father's family very well... but I wish I did. Only keeping track and keeping in touch with people takes time. And time is money. And I'm very... well LAZY actually. (betcha thought I was going to write poor.)

Anyhow, I have lots and lots of cousins. One is named Travis. In my mind he's twelve, but actually I think he's all grown up and maybe 25. I think he even has kids, and some unsavory habits.

Here are the things I remember about Travis when he was 12:

• He was very fat.
• He didn't think it was funny but smiled anyway when I told him I dropped him as a baby. I tried to put him in my cabbage patch perambulator, only he was top heavy and... I got in very big trouble.
• He was very friendly, like a puppy. Once we went on a very long walk on a very hot day. I don't think he had any fun. Anyhow we stopped at a corner store for water. I got water, and he insisted on milk. I don't know why. It seemed crazy to drink a pint of milk on a hot day in the middle of a long walk. I told him he was crazy, but he guzzled that milk anyway. I wonder if it curdled in his stomach.
• He hung out at my grandma's a lot. I thought he was brave, since she scared me to death. In fact I'm still afraid of her. She's fierce.
• Some of my other cousins were unkind to him. I was too. I blame it on '80 elitism.
• He wanted to be a police officer.
• He liked to watch WWWF. He had all the toys even.

Now, over a year ago Isabella and I went for a slushy at some quaint IceCream Parlour. It was okay, but the really great find was this postcard:

It reminded me of my cousin Travis, who isn't twelve and isn't perfect and probably wont join the police force. I wanted to send it to him just because I remember him fondly, and he should know that.