This is a picture of me holding a picture of my uncle Crysler and I taking a nap in 1986. I was 3 and Crys was 14 or 15. He was only 11 when I was born, a few months shy of 12; 7 years younger than his nearest sibling and so he and I were kinda raised together. He called me Poohstain, an unfair nickname considering it only stemmed from having to change my diaper; a nickname he used to humiliate me in front of boys for longer than I care to say. He also used to harass the boys I was friends with, his humiliations were not reserved for me. I think my friend Andrew is still mildly traumatized from phoning my house and having to talk to Crys when we were eleven. Now Crys calls me Al the Bal. Or just A the B for brevity's sake. I love this picture, it warms my heart and it always reminds me that I'm loved. I have it by my bed so I see it every morning and today I woke up (just now, really) a little 'feverish' (i.e. I may have imbibed a bit too much last night) and it made me feel a little bit better.