It’s For Sonic Screwing

, , | Related | August 10, 2017

(My aunt tells me she was asked to open her carry-on at security. After removing scissors the agent sticks his hand inside a compartment, peers in, then promptly removes his hand, exclaiming ‘Oh’ and going wide-eyed. He ends the search abruptly, tells my aunt she’s okay, whispers to another agent, and leaves, while holding his hand up.)

Me: “What did you have in there he didn’t want to touch? Can’t be like leaked lotion.”

Aunt: “I was confused at first, but then I checked that compartment. I had a sonic screwdriver there… I’m guessing he thought it was… umm, an adult thing… You know.”

Your Stories Are Complete Bull(y)

, , , , | Related | August 3, 2017

(As a child, my little cousin was an unpleasant little brat. Frequently he would annoy people with his loud antics and then throw tantrums when told to stop. He was also known to tell lies and get others in trouble. The family has grown weary of his behaviour and he is universally loathed by us. By now, my aunt has started noticing his behaviour and is starting coming down hard on him. We have family visiting from overseas and my uncle and cousin are reading in the living room at my grandma’s place. Suddenly my cousin comes in being really noisy and irritating.)

Uncle: “HEY! Cut it out, now!”

Cousin: “YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU’RE NOT MY MUMMY!”

Uncle: “Well, I’m the adult here and I’m telling you to be quiet. We’re trying to read. Now either play quietly or get out!”

(My cousin glares at him but obeys. Minutes later while my older cousin is reading, the younger cousin knocks the book out of his hands and starts giggling.)

Older Cousin: “KNOCK IT OFF!”

(The younger cousin then proceeds to do it again a few minutes later, laughing hysterically. My uncle immediately grabs him and pulls him out the room by his ear. Right away my cousin runs to his mother crying about ‘being bullied’ and makes her come with him to the living room. As she enters, he has a really smug look on his face as if everyone is in big trouble.)

Aunt: “So [Uncle], what did [Cousin] do this time?”

Cousin: “MUMMY!”

Aunt: “Be quiet; now what did he do?”

Uncle: “Oh, we told him to be play quietly and instead he thought it would be great fun to keep knocking [Older Cousin]’s book out of his hand.”

Aunt: “Well, I’m very sorry about that; seems he has few hard lessons to be learned.”

Cousin: “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE ME!”

Aunt: “Oh, am I? Well, isn’t it funny how this ‘being bullied’ stuff has been occurring an awful lot lately? Like when you pushed that other kid over in the playground at school and hurt him because you were ‘being bullied’ and it turned out you were just mad he beat you at some game? Or the other time recently when you broke [Friend]’s new toy because you were ‘being bullied’ and his mother then told me it was because you were jealous you didn’t have the same toy? Big coincidence that everyone is picking on you these days, isn’t it? Now, why don’t try telling me the truth for a change?”

(My cousin proceeded to throw a massive tantrum to try and get out of trouble. My aunt, unfazed by this, sent him to his room without supper. He later got grounded for two weeks with no TV after he was caught trying to sneak downstairs. Thankfully, my aunt’s ‘hard lessons’ she taught him have really paid off and he has grown into a more mature and responsible young man. It took a great deal of work, though.)

Weeping Angels Got Nothing On Me

, , , , , | Related | August 1, 2017

I was about twelve when this story happened, back in the late ’90s. A bunch of the family all get together at Grandma’s house for Independence Day weekend, and, as is typical of large family gatherings, one of the elders — on that day it is Auntie M — has to play babysitter and make sure the younger generation doesn’t all kill each other.

Since this is the era before video games could be played on cell phones, we need some way to entertain ourselves while we are waiting for food, and eventually settle on a few rounds of “Ghosts in the Graveyard,” with Auntie M in the role of Gravekeeper. For those who don’t know, the goal is to remain perfectly still while the Gravekeeper is watching, but go somewhere else and take a different pose when they aren’t.

After making it to the end of two or three rounds in a row without getting caught, I start getting a bit more bold, and decide that the game needs to be a bit more challenging. So in the middle of the next round, while Auntie’s back is turned, I summon up everything my preteen mind knows about stealth, carefully sneak up behind her, and silently and suddenly place my fingers on her back, posed as though attacking her with claws.

Auntie jumped about a foot in the air, leaving me plenty of time to hold that pose before she turned around. ALL the other kids were doubled over laughing. She seemed to take the whole thing in stride as she declared me the winner of that round… but looking back on it, I think there was a reason that was the last time we played that game.

Wishing You Could Be From A No-Hick Town

, , | Related | August 1, 2017

(I hit my neck, which hurts, but it’s not bleeding so I think nothing more of it and continue with my day, which includes a family gathering. I’m asexual, but only my siblings know that. Every time I see my family, at least five people want to discuss my non-existent love life and make suggestions about who I should date. Since all my cousins are getting married and settling down, the whole family has gotten even more involved than before in finding me a boyfriend. When I go downstairs, I see two of my aunts first. They stare at me open-mouthed for a few moments, and then share an amazed glance.)

Me: “Hi [Aunt #1], [Aunt #2]. How are… um… What’s that look for?”

Aunt #1: *grinning broadly* “I think the real question is ‘How are YOU?’ Looks like someone had a good time last night.”

Me: “What?”

Aunt #2: “No need to play coy. It’s winter. You could’ve just worn a turtleneck, and no-one would have seen it.”

Me: “Seen what?”

Aunt #2: “Oh, come on. We know you wanted us to see it. It’s easier than telling everyone you’ve finally found someone, huh?”

Aunt #1: “Oh, this is wonderful! We thought it would never happen!”

Me: “Um… I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Aunt #2: *gestures to my neck*

(I go to the bathroom to look at my neck in the mirror. There’s a red mark where the metal rod hit my neck. It looks just like a hickey.)

Me: *blushing furiously* “No! That’s not what this is! I was taking apart the hamper upstairs, and-”

Aunt #1: “It’s all right, honey. We know what it is. But if you aren’t ready to tell the rest of the family, we can find you a scarf or something. Oh! I have some cover-up in my bag.”

Me: “No, but it’s really not a hickey!”

(I explain the whole hamper situation, and my aunts’ huge smiles gradually fade to disappointed looks.)

Aunt #1: *sighs sadly* “Well, you’ll find someone someday, dear.”

Aunt #2: “You know, your biological clock is ticking…”

(I ended up getting yet another talk about how I needed to find a man so I could have babies. Then, I spent the rest of the day red-faced and constantly having to repeat this same conversation with almost every relative I saw. The one good thing about blushing that hard is that it sometimes hides the “hickey.”)

Up In Your Face About Your Face

, , , | Related | July 31, 2017

(My family rarely gets together so I haven’t seen anyone for several years. An event comes up and most of my siblings and many cousins, etc. make arrangements to gather in a town for a festival weekend. It is planned that the first night all will get together for a giant, shared meal. I am seated across the table from my aunt.)

Aunt: “What the h*** is that?”

Me: “What?”

Aunt: “That thing on your face!”

(She touches her own face indicating where.)

Me: “Oh. That’s cancer.”

Aunt: “Can you do something about it?”

Me: “Surgery is scheduled for later this month.”

Aunt: “Why would you go out in public like that?”

(This is a lesion that is smaller than a pencil eraser located above my lip. It looks a bit like a healed cold sore.)

Me: “Well, this is the only face I have so I don’t have much choice.”

Aunt: “Couldn’t you have gotten it fixed before you came?”

Me: “As you can see from my scars, I had surgery before I came. There is only so much the doctor was willing to do at once. I’ll have two more surgeries.”

Aunt: “Well, you’ll just have to sit somewhere else. I can’t eat looking at that.”

Me: “Sorry my cancer makes you so uncomfortable. What on earth was I thinking?”

(I got up and moved to sit next to a cousin.)

Cousin: “Yeah, just this morning she asked us why we thought the family got together so rarely. How’s your treatment going, by the way?”

Me: “The prognosis is good; thank you for asking.”

Aunt: “All I inherited from mom was my nose, thank goodness.”

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