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The Winterfell Soldier

, , , , , | Related | April 26, 2019

(I am on the phone with my aunt. I told her I was excited for a certain superhero movie coming out later this month, but I didn’t elaborate because I wanted to avoid the movies-like-that-will-give-you-nightmares-and-make-you-lose-contact-with-reality speech. I’m 26 and have lived on my own for years now, but my family has a habit of forgetting that. I’m a huge geek and love science fiction and fantasy, but my aunt detests it.)

Aunt: “What was that movie you wanted to see called again? Game of… something?”

Me: “Oh, Endgame!”

Aunt: “You sure? I saw something on TV about some movie, all science fiction and lots of fighting, and I thought it might be that movie you were excited about. But it was called Game of something, I’m sure.”

Me: *thinking I know what she’s referring to* “You mean Game of Thrones?”

Aunt: “Yes! That was it! That’s not what you were telling me about? It looked like what you described.”

(To be fair, I only told her it was a science fiction movie about superheroes and that she wouldn’t like it because there was lots of fighting in it. But I know trying to explain the difference between fantasy and science fiction to my aunt is a waste of breath, because she doesn’t care.)

Me: “Oh, no, that’s not it. It’s a popular television series, and the new season is coming out. I don’t watch that, though.”

Aunt: “Oh, good, because it looked ghastly. With those big horrible birds.”

(I’m thinking, “Birds? What is she… Oh!”)

Me: “Ehm, I think those were dragons.”

Aunt: “Oh, whatever, it looked dreadful. I’m sure it would give me nightmares.”

(I decided it was time to change the subject.)

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Your Aunt Has A Mass Defect

, , , , , | Related | April 10, 2019

(My aunt and I are living together. It’s my house and I am giving her a place to stay while her own home is essentially being rebuilt after a fire. I don’t like my aunt much because she is rude and entitled, and I only agreed to let her stay because my mother — who couldn’t let her stay at her own house because she was already taking care of my ailing great grandparents –guilt-tripped me. She has three small dogs and I have just recently gotten a puppy which I named Garrus, after my favorite video game character. One morning I hear a cell phone ringing. My aunt and I have similar phones, so I answer it without thinking to check if it’s really mine or not.)

Caller: “Hello, I’m calling to inquire about the dog for sale?”

Me: “Dog? There’s no dog for sale.”

(I look at the phone closer and realize I just answered my aunt’s. Thinking that she might be selling one of her three dogs, I ask:)

Me: “Can you tell me more about this dog?”

Caller: “He’s black and tan, the ad said he was still a puppy, and his name was Garrus. You’re selling him because you can’t take care of him anymore.”

(I’m completely stunned.)

Me: “Where did you see that this dog was for sale?”

Caller: “There was an ad on [Site].”

Me: “Hold on, please.”

(I check this site on my laptop and, sure enough, there is an advertisement with my aunt’s cell number attached offering my puppy up for sale for a measly $10. I paid way more than that for the adoption fee alone.)

Me: “I’m really sorry, sir. Garrus is not and never will be the property of the person trying to sell him, and she never even consulted me about selling my dog, so I’m afraid that he isn’t actually for sale.”

(Thankfully, he is very understanding about this and hangs up, but I later have to confront my aunt about why she is selling my puppy.)

Aunt: “There are too many dogs living in this house. There isn’t enough room for four of them, and your dog’s the biggest, so I thought he should be the one to go.”

Me: “This is his house! He will always be here and he was here first! You and your dogs are guests and will eventually leave!”

Aunt: “You know, if you weren’t so selfish, you’d agree with me that it’s too cramped and just get rid of the dog!”

(I had a better plan. I got rid of her. I gave her a week to find somewhere else to stay. She had the audacity to complain to my mom that I was throwing her out of the house, but then my mom called to get my side of the story and found out my aunt had tried to sell Garrus, among some other things she had done. She’d smashed my TV because “I was playing video games too loud” while she was trying to sleep; I had the volume turned as low as it could go and still make sound, so how she supposedly could hear it from all the way downstairs in the basement when I could barely hear it from across the room is beyond me. Mom took my side and told my aunt she would have thrown her out, too.)

Crafty Cousin Contrives Crude Consequence For Crazy Car Companion

, , , , , , , | Related | April 2, 2019

(I’m out driving with my cousin and aunt. My aunt is a horrible back-seat driver.)

Aunt: “The turn is coming! Get ready for the turn! It’s coming!”

Cousin: “I know where the turn is! Shh!”

Aunt: “Will you change lanes already?!”

Cousin: “Listen. Have I ever got lost driving? No! Have I accidentally ever missed a turn? Maybe once or twice, but not near enough for you to be yapping away like that. Now, zip it, or I’ll embarrass the heck out of you!”

Aunt: “You wouldn’t dare! Red light!

(The red light in question is a decent distance ahead of us and my cousin had already started to slow down before our aunt screamed. Once stopped, he looks at me in the rearview mirror with an evil grin on his face.)

Cousin: “Just wait a few minutes. We have a brief stop to make.”

Aunt: “Wait, what?” *eyes widen* “You wouldn’t!”

(My cousin just keeps grinning. After a couple of minutes of silence, he pulls into the parking lot of an adult video and toy store and rolls down the window.)


(My aunt’s face turns bright red and she tries to duck out of view.)

Aunt: “Stop it! Get out of here! [Cousin], no!”


(My aunt just made embarrassed whimpers and tried to hide her face while my cousin drove out of the parking lot and back on the road. My cousin had a satisfied smile on his face almost the entire way to our destination, and my aunt never tried to be a back-seat driver to him ever again.)

The Only Tonic I Need Goes With Gin

, , , , , | Related | March 21, 2019

(My elderly aunt still lives like it is the 1940s or 1950s. She doesn’t understand how the world today operates and still thinks that what worked then works now. My younger sister just announced that she is pregnant with her second child, and the following exchange occurs when I tell my aunt why I don’t have children.)

Aunt: “What’s the matter with you? Why can’t you have a baby? Your sister is five years younger than you and is pregnant with her second already!”

Me: “[Aunt], you know that [Husband] had damage to his male parts while he was deployed to Afghanistan. The VA says that he is sterile.”

Aunt: “You—“ *referring to me* “—should take two tablespoons of Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic every night before bedtime. My mother said that if you take two tablespoons of Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic every night before bedtime, you are guaranteed to get pregnant!”

Me: “Uh, the problem is with [Husband], not me…”

Aunt: “But my mother said that Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic is a miracle cure! She used to give it to all the women in our neighborhood to get them pregnant when they had trouble conceiving! And guess what? They all did!”

Me: “[Aunt], did you know that no one takes tonics anymore?”

Aunt: “Go to Walmart’s!” *she insists on calling Walmart, “Walmart’s”* “They have to have it! I’m sure all of your friends used Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic to conceive their babies! Everyone takes tonics!”

Me: “Uh, no one uses tonics anymore. Vitamins and herbal supplements, yes, but tonics, no. If Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic is such a miracle cure when was the last time you bought it?”

Aunt: “I think that I last bought it in 1956 when I conceived your cousin.”

Me: “You know that was over sixty years ago?

(My aunt just kind of froze up and finally dropped the conversation.)

Not Quite A Day Of Rest

, , , , , | Related | March 20, 2019

(My parents are going on vacation for a week. Since they have a dog, they ask me to housesit for the week. Two days after they leave, I hear a thud, the doorknob jiggling, and then the doorbell. With the chain still latched, I open the door and see my aunt, hands empty save for her purse. For background, she used to fawn over me. However, since I turned 18 — meaning upon my parents’ death, I would no longer require a guardian and would receive direct control over their assets — she’s barely spoken to me, even when I’m in the room.)

Aunt: “Hey there! Why’s the door locked?”

Me: “Why shouldn’t it be locked?”

Aunt: “It’s Sunday.”

Me: “And?”

Aunt: “We always have dinner together here on Sundays.”

Me: “You know my parents are on vacation, right?”

Aunt: “Yeah.”

Me: “…”

Aunt: “…”

Me: “So, there’s no family dinner this Sunday.”

Aunt: “But we always have Sunday dinner!”

Me: “When my mother is here to host it. She invites you over. She’s not here, so I don’t know why you think you’re invited.”

Aunt: “Because I’m family!”

Me: *shoots her the dirtiest “Oh, really?” look I can muster* “That doesn’t make this your house.”

Aunt: “It doesn’t make it yours, either!”

Me: “Which is exactly why I’m not inviting you in.” *slams the door in her face*

(She bangs on the door, rings the bell, and calls the home phone non-stop. When she still can’t take the hint, I have to involve the police. By the time they get here, my uncle has shown up, hands also empty, and joined in the tantrum. Since the background with him is pretty much the same story, I don’t step out to help him. About an hour later, I get a phone call from my mother.)

Mother: “You had [Uncle] and [Aunt] arrested?!”

Me: “They kept banging on the door and demanding entry. What else was I supposed to do?”

Mother: “Invite them in! I told them to come over and bring pizza so you wouldn’t have to cook for them!”

Me: “Then how about you tell me that next time, too?”

Mother: “I shouldn’t have had to! We always have family dinner on Sundays!”