My favorite Aunt Susan left a comment in the About Paul section that must rank as the coolest description of me I’m ever likely to hear. She recommends me, but in an effort to be unbiased and honest qualifies her recommendation like she’s trying to make up her mind about me as well. Somehow, the end effect makes me sound mysterious like a mythical character or superhero, especially the last line.
First, Paul is my favorite nephew (sort of as I have several) and I am his favorite Aunt. No question there. You have to like Paul because he is very elusive and never intrusive into your quiet world. He is very smart, but doesn’t brag – at least to me. He is very very funny and loves to banter. He sees the world differently but that doesn’t make him wrong, it makes you think. Paul is excellent not to send those chain e-mails or stupid things. Oh yeah, he never e-mails, calls or visits or even send pictures that you are obligated to ooh and ahhh over. There you go. You kind of know he is there but he really isn’t.
I love it.
I couldn’t help but imagine Aunt Susan as a police informant, whispering in a back alley as a detective peppers her with questions, trying to trip her up.
Sometime after midnight, dark alley, seedy part of town:
Detective: “Tell me what you know about Paul.”
Aunt Susan: “First, Paul is my favorite nephew.”
Detective: “Give it to me straight, Aunt Susan! I can tell you’re hiding something! Is he really your favorite nephew?”
Aunt Susan: “(sort of as I have several) and I am his favorite Aunt.”
Detective: “You’re sure you’re his favorite?”
Aunt Susan: “No question there.”
Detective: “And do you like Paul?”
Aunt Susan: “You have to like Paul because he is very elusive and never intrusive into your quiet world.”
Detective: “Is he elusive like he’s hiding something? Or maybe elusive because he knows he’s not very smart and prolonged exposure to him would reveal his lack of depth?”
Aunt Susan: “He is very smart, but doesn’t brag.”
Detective: “I find that hard to believe. He seems like he’d have a lot to brag about. Are you sure he never brags?”
Aunt Susan: “– at least to me. He is very very funny and loves to banter.”
Detective: “So where’s Paul coming from? What’s his worldview?”
Aunt Susan: “He sees the world differently.”
Detective: “Differently as in you think he’s wrong?”
Aunt Susan: “but that doesn’t make him wrong, it makes you think.”
Detective: “Think about what? What kind of stuff does he make you think about? Is he one of those sick people who send out chain e-mails of cats dressed up like people?”
Aunt Susan: “Paul is excellent not to send those chain e-mails or stupid things.”
Detective: “Anything else you’ve forgotten?”
Aunt Susan: “Oh yeah, he never e-mails, calls or visits or even send pictures that you are obligated to ooh and ahhh over. There you go.”
Detective: “Aunt Susan, I can’t tell if you’re saying you’re glad he doesn’t bother you or being sarcastic about how badly he keeps in touch. Hmm…just sum up Paul for me in a way that sounds ominous enough to scare my boss into committing more funds to this investigation.”
Aunt Susan: “You kind of know he is there but he really isn’t.”
Detective: (Speechless. His cigarette falls from his lips.)
By the way, Aunt Susan really is my favorite aunt, but I should probably explain that she’s my favorite aunt by default ever since the time I told her she was one of many wonderful aunts and it was hard to choose a favorite. I will never forget the spine-chilling look Aunt Susan gave me.
And within a week all my other aunts had disappeared.
The Good Greatsby 
modestypress
March 11, 2011
Perhaps she isn’t the queen bee, but surely she is the queen aunt.
hannah
March 11, 2011
“You kind of know he is there but he really isn’t.”
brilliant.
MarkH
March 12, 2011
The only thing I would like to see added is a complisult (compliment insult in case you’re not on my sub level of maturity). Something like “and his smell is very non-offensive.”
ajg
March 12, 2011
The unabridged version: Oh yeah, he never e-mails, calls or visits or even send pictures that you are obligated to ooh and ahhh over. I asked to meet his children one day, and he said, “What children?” He never mentioned my name when I broke my arm, or stood as a character witness when I was accused of all that graffiti. He did call me on my birthday once, but he asked for money and never mentioned my birthday. But I know he loves me. There you go.
marryin'thelibrarian
March 12, 2011
Yes, all your other aunts disappeared, but do you know where they were going? Off to plan a secret surprise party for you. But you never showed up because you were too busy reporting a flying house to the FBI. Where are those aunts now, you ask? Still hiding behind your couch. They are really good at hiding.
ajg
March 12, 2011
The aunts and the daleks. Together again.
lifeintheboomerlane
March 14, 2011
I think the entire purpose of families is to give us people to be saner than.
nursemyra
March 15, 2011
Brilliant backhand. Have you ever played tennis with her?
The Good Greatsby
March 15, 2011
No, we haven’t played tennis. I feel like playing tennis with Aunt Susan would be disrespectful to the memory of my former doubles partner, Aunt Racket, who disappeared after a tennis match with Aunt Susan.
modestypress
March 15, 2011
It’s the zombie aunts in her brain.