I read Moliere’s Don Juan and thought about my Uncle Bump.

(Bump was a nickname that stuck since he was nine years old when he got hit in the head with a baseball bat.)

Uncle Bump never married.  Many women set their sites on him, but they could not snag him.  Several of these women showed up at his funeral many years ago.  They all said the same thing: “I wanted to marry your uncle.  He broke my heart when I found out that he was cheating on me.”

Perhaps it was good that Uncle Bump was dead.  These women might have wanted to damage him if he was alive.

For Uncle Bump, women were fields to be ploughed.  And once he ploughed a field, he moved on to the next one.  But sometimes he ploughed several fields at the same time.  What a hard-working farmer!

A stroke slowed Uncle Bump down, but it did not stop him from ploughing fields.  His right side was paralyzed, but his middle and left side were fine.  He spent more time alone because of his stroke, and I felt sorry for him.

One Friday, late afternoon, I was driving home from work.  I had to pass Uncle Bump’s apartment on my way home.  I thought, Poor Uncle Bump.  He’s alone on a Friday night.  I’ll drop by and visit.

It took Uncle Bump took a long time to open the door.  When he did, I saw that he was not alone.  There was a woman in her underwear.

I blushed deep red, but you likely could not tell.  Uncle Bump insisted I come in.  He was not embarrassed at all.  He was beaming with a “Hey,- look-what-I-got!” expression.

The woman was embarrassed.

“Mary, this is my nephew Gary,” said a beaming Uncle Bump.  “Gary, this is Mary.”

We shook hands and said, “Nice to meet you.”

Was that weird!  I had never met a woman for the first time when she was wearing only underwear.

Uncle Bump wanted me to stay, but I was too embarrassed and left as politely and quickly as I could.

I drove home thinking about the irony.  I felt sorry for Uncle Bump because I thought he would be alone.  But he was getting lucky, and I was going home alone.

I discovered that I was not alone when I got home.  What a pleasant surprise!  Waiting to greet me was my right hand.