Uncle Teddy

(My family has always had a very strained relationship with my uncle, mainly because he is quite rude and condescending. He frowns upon my family for making money and refuses to hold down a job himself, and spends his time preaching his ideals to us. The most annoying part is that each time we meet he will always talk down to me like I am a silly little boy and he seems determined to stamp the fun out whatever I enjoy. At this point, I am six years old and really into Thomas the Tank Engine. When we visit my grandma, I see my uncle sitting in the front room, holding a glass of whisky and giving me a mocking sneer.)

Uncle: “Oh, you’re here, are you?! What are doing with yourself these days? Anything productive or are you just wasting your time thinking about trains?”

Mum: “For goodness sake, don’t start!”

Uncle: “What? I’m trying to help the boy. He’s too old for all that Thomas nonsense! Besides, you shouldn’t be letting him watch that stupid TV.”

Mum: “Just leave it! I’ve had enough of your opinions!”

Uncle: “In my day we played real games like cricket, football, rugby…”

Aunt: “You never played any of those games! Be quiet.”

(My uncle glares at her and goes back to looking smug.)

Uncle: “Well, he needs to learn to be more productive; otherwise other kids will just make fun of him.”

Grandma: “I seem to remember a young boy who liked playing with his teddy!”

Uncle: “Mum, don’t interrupt; it’s rude…”

Grandma: “In fact he seemed quite overly attached to it. Took that bear everywhere and would throw a tantrum if I took it away!”

Aunt: “Oh, yeah! Didn’t you play with that till you were about twelve?”

Uncle: “Don’t know what you mean.”

Aunt: “Actually, you only stopped because you met that neighbourhood boy who thought everything was stupid!”

Uncle: “Be quiet!”

(With that, my uncle left the room and we didn’t see him for the rest of the visit. My uncle died just over a year ago. Unfortunately, even before then we never really were able to talk to each other properly.)