Meet the Nieratkos, part 8: Lonnie on the hunt
I really wish I had something else to show you besides my wife’s retarded Uncle Lonnie’s Easter Egg Hunt from Sunday because tomorrow he is coming over our house to paint eggs with my wife and one can only imagine what kind of mess he will make.
Did I ever tell you how painful it is to watch Lonnie eat? You really feel bad for him and yet he doesn’t seem to care at all. Remember when Darryl Hannah ate the lobster in Splash? Shell and all? Lonnie is the same way. You can’t put anything down in front of him and turn your back. He’ll devour it in seconds. I have seen him eat unpeeled shrimp whole. And I’m sure tomorrow, when no one is looking, he’ll eat a hard boiled egg with the shell still on. There’s no stopping or helping him either. I have attempted to peel shrimp for him and he just can’t wait to eat and rips it out of my hand and swallows it whole. He is a human trash compactor. And tomorrow will be awesome but you will miss it.
Sunday was pretty great though. Friends of the family set up an Easter Egg Hunt for the kids (and Lonnie). Lonnie calls the family friend, McGummis. Lonnie has names for everyone. My wife, Cris Nieratko, is ‘Cille short for Lucille, one of Lonnie’s favorite Beatles songs. That is one of the few names that we can connect the dots on its origin. That and my name: Chrisole, which is a combination of my name and the word ASSHOLE. My mother-in-law is Doris Shittin. My wife’s aunt is Knox NaJew. And so on and so on.
McGummis was good enough to host a pizza party/egg hunt.
We failed to monitor Lonnie’s pizza intake because he snuck off and sat at the children’s table where we couldn’t see him. (I know that he knows what he’s doing. I know it.) McGummis came over and asked, “Is it ok if Lonnie has another piece of pizza?” she asked followed by an awkward pause, “…he’s had EIGHT already.” We yelled, “NOOOOOOO!” in unison and I ran to cut Lonnie off. You know what happens to little babies when they’ve had too much to eat…and that’s why Lonnie wears adult diapers now.
Luckily he didn’t shit his pants. Not then. Maybe later. And I’d bet $100 that when that diaper was removed there were candy wrappers in it. After Lonnie filled his basket with eggs he went through them one by one, keeping the things he wanted (the candy and the money) and throwing the things he didn’t want (toy cars and erasers) as hard as he could at the little 6-year-olds. They laughed and thought it was so funny. Then one of them got hit with a Matchbox car in the forehead and everyone stopped laughing. Except me. That’s when I started.
[flv:http://www.viceland.com/UK/video/VICEUK_Skinema_Cant_Hide_from_Lonnie.flv http://www.viceland.com/UK/video/VICEUK_Skinema_Cant_Hide_from_Lonnie.jpg 352 264]
[flv:http://www.viceland.com/UK/video/VICEUK_Skinema_Lonnie_Dont_Hula_Hoop.flv http://www.viceland.com/UK/video/VICEUK_Skinema_Lonnie_Dont_Hula_Hoop.jpg 352 264]
Of the candy he kept from the eggs, Lonnie started to sneak some from his basket and eat it; wrapper and all. Now n Laters with plastic wrappers, Hershey’s Kisses with foil wrappers; he ate it all without a second thought. We’d try and unwrap them for him but while we worked he’d reach his bear claw into the basket and grab another piece and toss it in his mouth. We had to cut him off the candy too.
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