Harold doesn’t see why anyone comes around to visit anymore. It’s never pleasant for anyone, since the medication makes him prone to moodiness and outright bouts of rage. And it’s no secret that the children would rather be somewhere–anywhere–else, given the amount of time they spend on their game systems each visit.

Nevertheless, one a month, Harold entertains portions of his family. He suspects that they have a rotation, probably designed to keep anyone from having to visit two consecutive months. Sometimes it’s his divorced granddaughter Charlotte and her three and a half kids–she takes after her mother, that one; Harold sees very little of his late son in her. His grandson Gregory never comes, but sends his wife and the twin girls instead. The wife is Sandy, and Harold can never remember what to call the girls…they have some terribly modern, terribly ugly names with trendy spellings.

And, sometimes, Jason visits–Harold’s great-nephew, the only son of his only sister’s only daughter. When Charlotte or Sandy ask after him, Harold always says the same thing:

“There’s a reason nobody after Julius Caesar had much to do with their great nephews.”