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That’s Probably What The Salesman Told Her

, , , , , | Related | September 20, 2017

(My family is at my grandmother’s house for Thanksgiving. My uncle opens the freezer to get something, and finds a hot pad underneath a container of ice cream.)

Uncle: “What’s this?”

Grandmother: “It’s a hot pad.”

Uncle: “What’s it doing in the freezer?”

Grandmother: “Since it keeps the table from getting burned when you put hot things down on it, I keep it in the freezer so the ice cream won’t get freezer-burned.”

(My mother looked at my uncle and me with a death glare, and under her breath said, “Don’t you dare say a word”.)

You Should See Your Face(book)

, , , | Related | August 28, 2017

(My aunt has always been a pretty terrible person, and my interactions with her have been for the sole sake of keeping the peace, because my grandmother loves her, even more than her other two daughters. One year, my aunt goes on one of her crazy sprees during her pretty nasty divorce and ends up accusing everyone in the family of siding with her husband while she “did no wrong” – they were divorcing because he learned she was cheating on him with her diving instructor – and kicks several people off her Facebook page, including me. I have blocked her for good measure and gone about my business. One day, about three years later, I receive a friend request from my aunt. She has deleted her old page and made a new one, and is trying to add most of the people she had kicked off the old one. I ignore it, and block this page, too. The next day, I am at home with my grandmother, who I live with at the time to take care of her, and my aunt is there.)

Aunt: “Oh! [My Name]! There you are! I need to talk to you!”

Me: “What about?”

Aunt: *acting offended* “I sent you a friend’s request on Facebook last night, and you ignored it! How am I supposed to keep in contact with you? That hurt me so badly!”

Grandmother: “[My Name], add her on Facebook! You are being rude!”

Me: “But I have you on Facebook, [Aunt]. I mean, unless you kicked me off, I’m still there; I would never do something that rude. I figured it was a spoof account trying to get personal information or something.”

(She never bothered me about adding her as a friend again.)

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 by the ear and pulls him out the room. 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.