32-year Old Grandfather

My younger brother got a woman pregnant when he was 16. It was kinda a big deal, because the woman he got pregnant was Mrs. Jenkins, our extremely hot high school English teacher, who was married to an old rich man. We surmised correctly that the old man couldn't get it up anymore, and these being the days before Viagara, it was only a matter of time, and my brother was the lucky one. Unfortunately, two years earlier, when he was 14, I thought he was having sex with the neighbor girl, so I gave him a couple of condoms. He wasn't, and those condoms sat unused in his wallet until he nailed Mrs. Jenkins, rendering them rather uneffective.

Well, as you can imagine, the daughter that resulted from this unholy union did not have the best life, and it was no surprise when she too had a baby just shy of her 17th birthday. My brother was now a grandfather at 32. Not a bad deal if you ask me.

They (my brother, my niece, and her son) all came over to visit me so I could see the baby. He was cute enough. They named him Brady after the star New England quaterback.

"Hey, Sex in the City's on," my niece said. "Do you watch that show?"

"No."

"Oh, come one, I bet it's right up your alley. All they talk about is getting laid and shopping."

We turned it on, and the first thing I saw was a naked Kim Cattrall. Man, she looked almost as hot as she did in Mannequin.

"What's Mannequin?"

I was shocked that not only had she not seen such a classic movie, she hadn't even heard of it.

"Well, maybe you should've given my dad that for Christmas, instead of all those Bergman pictures..."

It was a good point, but because I'd given him those movies, and she'd been subjected to them at such a young age, she spoke near fluent Swedish, and with the German she was learning in school, was on the fast track to a Germanic Languages scholarship at Harvard. That was until this happened. I asked her who the father was.

"Oh, my boyfriend. He was a couple years older than me, and joined the army. He was blown up by a car bomb in Iraq. Unfortunately I can't get any money from the military, because we weren't married; not that I would've married him anyway, but the money would've helped."

That's when I sprang into action and called my gal Natalie Jacobson with Channel 5 News. Her story was on the TV that evening. Within a week there was a celebrity golf tournament, celebrity concert, celebrity poker tournament, and two celebrity bowling tournaments held in her name. We'd managed to net her about 1.7 million dollars tax free. That wasn't counting the $300,000 scholarship. She was a little annoyed, though, with all the publicity. She had to do shows like Hardball, Cold Pizza, and Today. Not only that, but her background in Germanic languages drew attention from Europeans. The Swedish consolate gave her a key to Goteborg. It was tough.

But when she moved into Manny Ramirez's old luxury condo for free, received lifetime season tickets to the Red Sox and Patriots (Tom Brady was touched the child was named after him), and found out she was in such high demand she could charge money for appearences, her mindset changed. She put off plans for college, and became both the reason why we shouldn't "cut and run" and "need to stay the course"; and the reason why we need "a plan to withdraw our troops", and "how he would've survived with body armor". Republicans and Democrats in key Battleground States paid five and sometimes six figure amounts to secure her face at a campaign event.

My niece had become a extremely rich and famous. I guess it was the American dream. Ish.