Rob coasted through life turning mountains into molehills. As a child, he would crawl around his house making irreverent statements about having to be potty-trained, learning how to read, learning how to eat, and many of the other milestones that kids were expected to pass without any sort of protest.
His parents adored this about him, because he made them loosen up. They were always so tense. They would fight about bills, looming crises, and how to remain honest people while blatantly lying on their taxes, but then Rob would come out almost on cue to say “Bills Schmills.” All the tension would fade away.
Rob pushed his abilities to the limit by travelling to an African war-torn nation. He would live among starvation, constant fighting, drug abuse, persistent fear, neglect, heightened anxiety, and he would still make villagers laugh due to his poor grasp of the language. He would try to ask how somebody’s day was going and would wind up saying, “I’m a child because my foot is stone and tree bark feces.”
An adventurous spirit spawned within him.
He died halfway up a spontaneous climb to the peak of Mount Everest. Incidentally, his life would’ve been saved if only his ability to turn mountains into molehills was real.