Posts Tagged ‘family


So proud

If there’s one thing in this world I know I can count on, it’s my family’s oddness. Now, this doesn’t manifest itself in any kind of dire ways, like random fires or drastic, angry arguments. But, let’s just say that when I get bored, I get creative, and the next thing you know, the rest of the family has followed suit.

This year’s shenanigans started with some toy my nephew got that involves a giant ship and a shark whose mouth opens when you press his dorsal fin. My oldest nephew and sister started helping him put it together, and as always, interest lasted about 10 minutes before he was bored and doing something else.

That meant is was time for the adults to play.

As I was getting the first shot, my nephew saw that I was up to no good. He looked over and said, “Hey, are you taking pictures of the shark?”

“Uhhhh, maybe.” *click* “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

So, after the picture was shared and laughs went around, my sister got a look in her eye, and more pictures were taken…

The oldest nephew was a little bit horrified at watching his mom and I revert to being kids again. But he was also horrified that the shark mauled the tuba player, as he plays sax for Pitt’s marching band. My sister’s comment: “Oh relax — the saxophone player lived.”

The next thing you know, Nephew No. 1 had the shark and had it eating the Virgin Mary in the stable. My mom disapproved, so it ended up on top of an angel.

Then, to my surprise, Nephew No. 4 got into the act. He wasn’t as creative in his use of the shark, but he’s young … he has potential.

Then, as the night went on and the youngest 2 nephews started battling over toys, I was left alone with the shark. Since Nephew No. 4 kept getting a little whiney and saying “NO!”, I had the shark also say “No” in accordance to the conversation. Of course, I was using the voice of the Emperor from the scene where Mace Windu was about to kill him, and then he zaps the shit out of Mace and wins the day. The voice and the shark went together surprisingly well.

Eventually, I went full-blown weird, and told my sister that the shark wanted to eat the Messiah, because he heard that the Savior was tender and mild.

In the end, dinner was good, there was a lot of laughing and only mild blaspheming … so that’s probably as close to the true meaning of Christmas that my family will ever reach.

So, Merry Christmas to you and yours. And my friendly advice: Try to avoid the hot and spicy Messiah. Just sayin’.


Indian giver

Well, Thanksgiving is over and my life is starting to get back to normal — normal being used in the basic sense of the word.

I think I’m finally done dealing with the holiday.

I wished for all the damn turkey, suckas.

Let me rewind a minute here — for those of you who don’t know, my family is delightfully insane. We don’t have “OMG severe drama”  (like Timmy is high on meth, causing mom to faint, while drunken dad hits on my girlfriend, etc.), but we do have lots of little stuff that leads me to cracking open another beer instead of getting involved in it. For example, when nephew No. 3 had just learned to “potty like a big boy,” he was more than happy to show us … in the dining room, while we were eating our Thanksgiving meal. Or in the middle of the living room while we were sitting around talking. Or about every 3 minutes just to show us that he could. For my sib’s family, meh, it was par for the course and one less diaper to change, so no big deal. So, instead of voicing my discontent, I settled on having another beer while I internally churned.

This year’s drama involved the meal itself. Mom called a few weeks before the day and asked how I felt about turkey for Thanksgiving. My only reaction was, “What the heck are you talking about?”

“Well, I was talking to your sister,  and she was saying how they weren’t too keen on having turkey, since they’ll be having it a lot. But she said to leave it up to you.”

I summed it up in 3 words. “I want turkey.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for any kind of free, delicious home-cooked meal. But after not having turkey one year, I found out that I’m a traditionalist. I want turkey and all the fixings. Pass the stuffing, please.

So we eat. Everything goes fine. No nephews were using the potty during dinner. I only drink one Dogfish Punkin. We’re grooving.

Then we start dividing up the leftovers. My sister insists on giving me first shot, but I tell her no, take what you want, and I’ll take the rest. The argument tennisballs back and forth, back and forth. Finally, she basically opts to take some of the sides and gives me all of the turkey, since they’ll be sure to have leftovers from the meal with her husband’s family. Her husband is like, “We have 3 turkeys in the freezer right now, we don’t need any more turkey.” Fine, whatev.

The day after, I get a call from my mom.

Mom: “Did you like the turkey?”
“Yes, it was really good.”
“You didn’t really just throw it out, did you?”
“God no. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have taken it.”
“OK, well, I just got a call from your sister.”
“Yeah, she was asking me if I had any leftover turkey. ”
Me: “What?”
Mom: Well, apparently they really didn’t have any leftover turkey from their meal last night.”
Me: *laughing hysterically*
Mom: “So she wanted to get turkey from me, but I gave it all to you. I told her to call you, but she said she wouldn’t. But I guess she has mashed potatoes, stuffing and all the fixings, but no turkey…”

Maybe next time she’ll listen to her little brother.

(And for the record, she hasn’t called. So I made, and ate, a turkey pot pie, and will probably make another one in the near future. Mmmm. Turkey and fixins…)


The funeral

It seems like I’ve been going to a lot more funerals recently. All of my dad’s cousins are getting up there in age, and as is natural, they are passing on. And it’s always sad to see one of them go, because they are all (in gerneral) such good people.


I have to say, the extended family is hysterical at funerals (or family gatherings in general … it just seems that funerals are the thing where everyone seems to get together anymore). They will never hesitate to break stones, no matter where you are at. I don’t want to get into details, because if you aren’t from the family, it would probably sound very mean-spirited. But trust me on this … there were shots being thrown about the deceased as well as the other members in attendance. I was nearly crying from laughter, not sadness.

And you know, in hindsight, I’m kinda thankful for it. Because if there’s ever a memory to take away from a funeral, it’s of all of them together, telling stories, breaking each other’s stones, and laughing.

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