The Nephewing Season

It is the season.
So many things popping up: Thanksgiving, Shopping, Christmas, Boxing Day, St Stephen's Day, Childermas or the Feast of the Holy Innocents, New Year's, Feast of the Epiphany, Twelve Days, and so on until Malanka for the Ukrainian Orthodox among us.
It is also the time of year my nephews stop by à la posse, that is, as a group; a trinity, to be exact, which brings to mind the atomic bomb - Trinity was code for the test - in more ways than one.

They are older now, and not such a handful as they used to be. However, as Sun Tzu said à propos of war, never trust one's family entirely. It is best to come to the family feast, but make sure of one's escape route, and have the keys to the car in your pocket - not in some vastly unhandy place, like a glove box with a hole in it, or tossed thoughtlessly into a bowl of Thanksgiving walnuts, like that clown who drives himself and four other teenagers - his girlfriend, his best friend and his girlfriend, and the class nerd - on their way to a cabin in the woods for a weekend of good times.
No one wants to fumble for keys when Freddy Krueger - or worse, Aunt Stella - is nearby.

So... nephews.
The trouble is that they are still unhappy about the last time I wrote about them:

 My Three Nephews On Whitey Bulger Look-Alike Day

They did not take to the comparison to Whitey Bulger.
And now that there is a high profile film, starring Johnny Depp, about Whitey and crew, well, I suppose they will still keenly feel the avuncular blade of wit stinging their pride. I mean, I sure would!

They are en route from their various domiciles.
(en route,  à propo,  à la posse.... a lot of Frenchy-isms in the post today. Of course,  à la posse isn't French at all. It is just something I made up for going about with a posse.)

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