Twelve years ago, my nephew turned one. I was twenty years old at the time. If you’re good at math, you can decipher that I am now thirty two. And my nephew is now thirteen.
Pencils down.
For my nephew’s first birthday, my sister wanted to do a time capsule. The family was asked to write my nephew a letter to put in the capsule, and he would open it when he was eighteen.
Going back to the math problem in the opening paragraph, we determined that I was twenty years old when I was asked to write said letter.
When I was twenty, I was a pretty good kid. I worked full-time, I was in college full-time (after work), and I kept myself on the straight and narrow.
But, occasionally, I smoked pot.
I wasn’t a “pothead”, but sometimes I burned one on the weekend, after a hard week of caring for snotty two-year-olds at the daycare (Yes, their daycare teacher smoked pot. Your child’s daycare teacher may do the same), or after a week of studying literature and cranking out essays for creative writing courses.
On the eve of said nephew’s birthday party, I decided to cut loose and have a toke. My best guy-friend was home from college for the summer, and we sat by his parent’s pool and smoked some weed and talked about Grateful Dead for two hours.
Then I went home and wrote my nephew’s time capsule letter. Because that seemed like a wise and creative thing to do.
I rambled about my twenty years of existence and the “wealth” of knowledge that I had acquired over that short time.
“Don’t eat at the Taco Bell on Highland Avenue. It is gross, and I once got food poisoning there.”
“Cats don’t like bubble baths.”
“There’s a Sasquatch that lives in the woods on the east side of Rudolph Road. I’ve seen it. Twice.”
Then I spoke of “My So-Called Life” and “Dawson’s Creek”.
“Never treat ladies the way Jordan Catalano treats ladies.”
“Joey picked Pacey because he wasn’t a cry-baby like Dawson Leery. Don’t be a cry-baby. Be Pacey Witter.”
The last page contained the scribbled lyrics to Pink Floyd’s “Time” and a smeared stain from my Cheeto-covered fingers.
I figured that my nephew would appreciate the letter when he read it seventeen years later. His aunt would help him understand the misunderstood, and Pink Floyd would speak to him in some deep and philosophical way.
I now realize that my letter is nothing more than an unimportant embarrassment. It is foolish and disgusting, and it reminds me of that YouTube video of a drunken DavidHasselhoff eating a cheeseburger on the bathroom floor.
I only have five years to retrieve the letter from the two foot hole in my sister’s back yard.
I only have five years to pull a Tom Clancy Splinter Cell, decked out in my black spy suit and night vision goggles, and remove this nonsensical nonsense from the time capsule that also holds a letter of wisdom from my mother, explaining the importance of God and love and family. I must retrieve the warped paragraphs that may or may not include references to Alice in Wonderland and how the White Rabbit was in search of hard drugs. And how the boy should never become the White Rabbit. The White Rabbit is bad.
I only have five years to redeem myself.
I only have five years to save my nephew from being influenced by his idiotic twenty-year-old aunt.
Only five.
Let the search for “spy suits” on E-bay ensue.
If your nephew is cool, he’ll recognize the Pink Floyd lyrics and realize that you Win the letter writing and being-an-awesome-aunt contest.
I accept my awesome aunt award. Thank you. 🙂
Bahahah no i love the idea of this letter! It’s very cool!
Pink Floyd is STILL cool!
Ha, ha! If there was a time capsule with a letter from a 20-year old me, I’d be hunting on ebay for spy suits, too. Hilarious.
I’m so glad I’m not alone. Whew.
Jordan Catalano ruined me. Get that capsule back, girl!
That sexy meany pants!
HA! I can picture every single scene from your pot smoking letter writing days!!! I can help you dig that time capsule out… we would have a HOOT of a time!! Lets get drunk first, or high- haven’t done that since my college days, but I’M IN!!!
If I got high now days, I would surely puke, pass out and then feel incredible pangs of guilt!!!
I don’t even want to think about what my 20 year old self would have said to humiliate my 50 year old self …or the size of that black spy suit now that I am 50…
Haaaaa! Right! !
seriously, you can not be held responsible for 20 year old you. besides, i’m sure it’s amusing. but, now go write another letter to hand to him on his birthday full of real stuff you want to say. that way he’ll see silly you and the you he already knows and loves. 🙂
I’m going to do that. Great idea.
Your sister may have written even crazier stuff, as the mother of a one-year-old! You might look super pulled together by comparison. (Plus Cheeto dust could trump toddler drool!)
This is certainly true!!!
I think your nephew is going to LOVE your letter, and the Cheeto smear will give it a “scratch and sniff” quality that will probably be lacking in all of the other letters.
“I only have five years to retrieve the letter from the two foot hole in my sister’s back yard.” For some reason, that sentence made me laugh and laugh.
Karen
Scratch n sniff!! Yes!!!
“Joey picked Pacey because he wasn’t a cry-baby like Dawson Leery. Don’t be a cry-baby. Be Pacey Witter.”
This may be the best piece of advice ever. EVER. Team Pacey all the way.
For sure.
Totally agree on the Team Pacey! ;0)
This post is hilarious! I’m glad I found you from the “yeah write” challenge grid.
PS I think you can get some reasonably priced spy gear on Ebay.
I’m glad you found me too! Thank you!!
Everyone needs a cool aunt! And I’ve heard you shouldn’t try to mess with time capsules, you could mess up the space-time continuum so that Pink Floyd *never existed*. Just sayin’.
Great post 🙂
PF never existed!?? Oh, the horror!
Loved this post! I’d be right there with you on this one, but I think if you can’t manage to get ahold of a spy suit, your nephew will probably love reading your letter. =)
Ebay was outta suits….
Oooh boy! Good luck with that one! Better get drafting a replacement, too!
Still, if nothing else, it will prove a wonderful, time-and-date stamped reason he should probably never smoke pot…
Certainly will!
By the time your nephew is 18 he’ll be smoking pot himself, will laugh hysterically and attempt to lick that cheeto stain. He’ll appreciate the awesome aunt that you undoubtedly are. Nothing to feel bad about. Full disclaimer: I live in the land of pot. Like you I smoked it a bit in college but no longer. However, I am in the minority here in Northern CA. My neighbor, this very day, told me she just ‘trimmed’ 20 lbs. If the NSA is listening she is now in deep shit.
Trimmed 20 lbs!!?? Oh, Steph. I love you!
This has me laughing out loud in the dark…its bad luck to dusturb the time capsule but holy shizzit suppose ur nephew sees this?
Its bad luck to disturb a capsule!? Oh shizzit!!
This might be the funniest blog post I have ever read. I pictured you writing a new letter and replacing it on the night before the time capsule is set to be dug up.
Incidentally, if you do that, you ought to write things like, “I met this 4 year old named Justin Bieber the other day. I think that kid is going to be famous!” or make it look like you’ve predicted the last 12 Super Bowls or something.
Bahhaaaaaa!! Excellent!!!!!
Noooooo. You MUST not take back that letter. I assure you, your letter will be his most favorite. It is full of very wise and important advice. None of that stop and smell the roses bullshit. But real, solid advice that every man should know. Especially that one about don’t be a cry baby. Dawson was SUCH a baby it was gross. LEAVE THE LETTER.
Yes mam.
For your search, you may also need night-vision goggles, collapsable shovel, and a baseball bat (to fight off any night-creatures).
I wrote a similar letter to my parents, promising to hate my younger sister forever – I didn’t retrieve it in time, and it was read, with great embarrassment, on my 21st birthday.
So gather your supplies, and don’t waste any time. Five years is a lot shorter than you think.
Collapsable shovel. Best band name ever.
I think your letter is perfect. I wish some wise 20 year old would have bitch slapped me with this advice when I was 18!
And hey . . . remember that time when we were both in a book together and were supposed to share the proceeds, then the editors disappeared into the great wide world of web, leaving us penniless? Ah, good time, good times.
Sure I remember that. Made zero bucks, but I SPENT 3 bucks to download it on my Kindle…..Good times, indeed.
Sweet! I totally think you should let this ride, then post the letter and his reaction as he reads it. That Hasselhoff video got a ka-zillion hits, you could be an internet sensation…
Amazing idea! “Kid reads letter his high aunt wrote over a decade earlier”. I like it.
Love it! I agree that you should leave it. With all the other sentimental stuff he’s liable to get, this one will be random and humorous and funny. I’d suggest writing one that could accompany it and handing it over when he turns 18. Seriously. Don’t take it out! Love this post!
Thank you! Great idea on the second letter. Hopefully it’ll make more sense than the first.
You absolutely have to keep that letter in the ground. If for nothing else it will be comedic relief from all the heart-wrenching anecdotes adults like to slather on teens.
This is true..
It’s amazing how many wonderful things were written under the influence of mind expanding … shall we say “Nature’s Offerings.” I’d love to have some of my early air tapes from the first radio station I ever worked at that required us to smoke prior to going on air. It was a good thing they didn’t worry about dead air as much of it followed after saying, “Wow, that was really a cool song.” lol I’m sure you can find a spy suit. If worse comes to worse, buy a metal detector and visit their back yard one afternoon when all are gone. Even if they come home early, you’ll have an excuse! Good post!
hilarious!! I recently found & destroyed the journals of my misspent youth..but not before re-reading all the teen-angst. Dawson was a pussy but Pacy was poser. You gotta leave the letter.
This spy mission needs to be recorded, so we can all watch it here on the blog.
I love the advice up there about writing a second letter. It would fix the first one, and negate the need to dig two foot holes in your sister’s backyard until you find the right spot.
Um. I feel bad for loving the letter. I’m going to go reevaluate my entire life now. At 38. Because I missed something at 32 I think. 😉