Part 1 in an ongoing series …
Travelling to see my family is always incredibly educational. Just when I think I know them, I end up discovering something completely interesting – like the specific terms of their probation, for example, or which Eastern European ethnic group “has it coming.”
On this trip, I figured I wouldn’t uncover anything too interesting – after all, I go to my aunt’s and uncle’s house all the time, so I’ve probably uncovered all the hidden family mysteries their house is hiding, right?
Foolish mortal! OF COURSE not. There’s always more crazy to be found amongst my family. Our neurosis is the gift that keeps on itching. This time, I was lucky enough to learn the following …
My brother is apparently a member of the NRA.
To imagine what this is like in my family, picture your favorite family patriarch arriving to Christmas dinner in his wife’s wedding dress and insisting that he be referred to as Mother Shabubu. It’s a little startling at first, but by dessert, you’re sharing tampons. You know the drill.
Oh, and then there was this:
Did you know that there’s someone in my Italian family with the name Krystal? Neither did I! Especially since Krystal is not only not an Italian name, but because the Italian alphabet has no letter K. Also, I’ve never in my life heard of or anyone related to us, even tangentially, with the name Krystal. But obviously, there must be someone, because otherwise why the HELL WOULD WE HAVE A NIGHTLIGHT WITH THE NAME “KRYSTAL” ON IT?
That would just be insane.
Oh, and apparently putting knives in the utensil rack with the blades pointing upward is a good idea.
I am saving this photo in order to prove to several of my relatives that they are not (contrary to popular belief) “cursed by gypsies”, but instead might just be careless. (And for the record, immediately after taking the above photo, I turned all the knives and forks around and scolded my aunt and uncle like they were children).
And speaking of accident-prone …
That’s a photo of my uncle, pushing my broken-legged aunt in her wheelchair, in the middle of the road, alongside rushing traffic. He’s taking a pause here to answer his cell phone. My aunt is smiling because that’s what she does when her picture is being taken, regardless of how close she is to rushing vehicles.
He decided to push her in the street because the sidewalks “were too bumpy” and it was therefore “dangerous.” I thanked him for this important lesson in safety, and then proceeded to down three glasses of wine when I got to my cousin’s house.
What wisdom do you glean when you visit family? Do you find that your alcohol tolerance is far better than usual when you are around certain relatives? Or that one of your nephews looks way more like the neighbor than his biological father? Share your important family lessons below!