Well it was a beautiful day to go for a coffe at the really old castle with their terrace that looks out over the ocean. There we were, my aunt, my sister, her husband and all the children, the teen daughter, the teen son and also the youngest addition, Emil, who is about six years old. The terrace is one of the more "touristy" places in the coastal town of Varberg where my aunt lives and, even if the coffe is so bad it should be used for some form of cleaning purpose than drinking.
I see a man with his two sons walking towards us on their way out. The older son is about eight and the younger son is a rugrat and maybe four years old. He has a baseballcap and a wooden sword he uses to hit all the bushes and plants on the way out. The kids seems to be very satisfied with the amount of destruction he can release upon a plant in a pot with his dull wooden sword and the dad does nothing to stop him.
I see it as my purpouse in life, not having any children of my own, to make sure that my sisters kids does not trust any grown ups. I do this by lying to them constantly. For one thing it makes their tiny brains develops a bulletproff bullshit-detector, and also just for the fun of it since my lies are usually creative, whimsical and ironic. Like telling them that the main ingredient in glue is licorice and glue therefore taste like the best licorice you have ever had. Or that one of my sisters kid was bought as a kit in a store to assembly on ones own, and if he is not a lot nicer she will take him apart, put him back in the box and take him back to the store and exchange him to something nicer and more grateful that picks up their clothes from the floor and says thanks for the food they get. Or that walls have a special coating that you can draw on and the next day whatever you have draw is gone. Or that my sister loves the music made by hitting a pot with a spoon a lot. See, all in good humor!
I turn to Emil and say: -"See that short kid with the hat and sword? He said you were a coward and that you are still wearing diapers!"
Emil, with a very angry and insulted look on his face shouts "What!?" and stands up to attack the boy with the sword and the entire table of three grown ups and two teenagers starts standing up too and yelling and shouting to Emil: "No, stop! Ola is just joking!" while I, very proud of the great reaction I got is of course laughing my ass off.
This is my kind of humor. I'm probably not going to heaven...