Criticism. Essay. Fiction. Science. Weather.
You're the Most Beautiful of All the Aunts. No, Not Just Because of the Alcohol.
Joshua W. Jackson and Sergio Sandino
You, Aunt Helen, would know better than I, but I'm inclined to agree that my parents are doing a heck of a job with me. Of course, I have something to do with it, but you're right, they have sacrificed much and have had to work very, very hard with me. But yes, I'm coming along quite nicely. Frankly, I'm among the brightest and best looking in the ninth grade.

And it was especially hard for them, my parents, what with Mother's troubles with alcohol and Father's crippling addiction to places other than here. Forgive me, though, going on and on about myself with such... such... nonchalance. (Do you suppose that's French? It's got a lovely sound, doesn't it?
Nonchalance.) Anyway, what about you? Your parents! Grandma and Pops Dennison, I guess. They didn't do so badly themselves. A wonderful accomplishment, you.
Why, yes, I did have a little something to drink. Let's make that our little secret, though. You see, I find that often times I'm quite mature enough to enjoy a few beverages for myself. It's just that sometimes I find things altogether crushing without a nip here or there. This is the first time anybody's ever noticed at a family function. Why, no, I would be inclined to think things are getting better every moment.
Say, Helen, what say you pass me some of those cashews. Thank you. You know what? Now that I've got you bent down there, why not the almonds instead? Errr... Peanuts. What about the peanuts. Nothing like a good peanut, wouldn't you say? Mmmm...Yes. Positively inscrutable.
Anywho, what's that lovable bastard husband of yours been up to? I love the man. Love Uncle Henry. Did he get a chance to do any fly-fishing this season? Any recent arrests I haven't heard about? Ha! That's just a little joke, Aunt Helen. Please don't be upset. Well, obviously they told me. You wouldn't have wanted me to read about it in the paper, would you? Aunt Helen and Uncle Henry. Ohhhhh.... Piss. Why do you people always marry people with the first letter? The same first letter?
Meh. Don't worry about that. I've got plenty of friends my own age. Girls? Oh yes. Some of them are most definitely girls. Speaking of, listen, if I'm not being too brash. Some of the fellas and I were putting together a bit of a... a... uh... wager on what this girl Mariah's boob size is. Like, what size bra she wears. Oh, I suppose it's quite natural for a group of gentlemen our age. She has a wonderful pair. Probably the largest in the class. And beautiful. Come to think of it, they're quite like yours... Might you tell me what size--
Helen, wherever are you going? Right in the middle of our conversation. Quite, quite rude, I have to say.