The Hypothesizing Dead

, , , , | Related | August 25, 2017

(My cousin and I are at an amusement park. We’re on a ride that is about to start. My cousin sees a large black box on the side of the ride.)

Cousin: “I wonder what’s in that black box? I bet it’s information for a secret spy convention. What do you think?”

Me: “I think it’s a bomb to be set off in case of zombie apocalypse.”

(There is a few seconds of silence then:)

Me: “We’re weird, aren’t we?”

Cousin: “Yep, but who wants to be normal?”

(After the ride is over, she sees another box of the same size and color.)

Cousin: “There’s another large box. So that one has information for a secret spy meeting about zombies and the other one has a bomb to deal with them…”

 

Their Wishes Are Horses

, , , , | Related | August 17, 2017

(I have a very nasty horse. There hasn’t been a year I’ve owned him that he hasn’t had me in the hospital for some severe accident. The two most recent both needed surgery after nearly ripping my arm off my body, and breaking my arm so badly it turned two small wrist bones almost to dust. Most of my family wants me to sell him but my cousins love him. I’ve gone to visit them with my arm in a cast with the stabilizing rods sticking out of it.)

Female Cousin: “You know I really don’t want you to sell him, but it might be better for you if you did.”

Me: “Well, you and [Male Cousin] are the only ones who aren’t threatening to sell him behind my back. I had to move barns and not tell anyone so they wouldn’t do it while I was here.”

Male Cousin: “Meh, it’s your life, and if he ends it we’re your beneficiaries.”

Me: “And here I thought you just didn’t want me to give up my last semblance of happiness in the world.”

Female Cousin: “Nah, we couldn’t care less about the horse. We just want the money.”

Time To Re-Dress Your Comments

, , , | Related | August 2, 2017

(My cousins and I are vacationing at the beach for one week. I brought a variety of clothes, most of which were casual and went into drawers, but I brought one dress that I hung in the closet. I had gotten there before the other two girls, so no one witnessed me putting away my clothes. The house we were staying in was a rental and as we were looking around we started to comment on the “retro” decor.)

Cousin #1: *in the kitchen* “Oh, my gosh! Look at this horrible green stove!”

(All three of us giggle.)

Cousin #2: *opening a closet in the hallway* “The water heater matches. Avocado green!”

(All three of us move to look at the green water heater in the closet, giggling all the while.)

Cousin #1: “…and look at that HORRIBLE old-fashioned fabric!”

(She is pointing to the dress I hung up in the closet. I stop laughing abruptly.)

Me: “That’s my dress!”

(Awkward pause.)

Cousin #1: “I thought it was an apron.”

(All three of us erupted with laughter. I will admit that the dress looked very apron-like on the hanger. My cousins both made a point of telling me how good it looked when I was wearing it, but I must admit I always felt a bit awkward wearing that dress after that.)

All Manner Of Craziness

, , , , | Related | July 24, 2017

(I’m at a family dinner, for the holiday seasons. We are all at the table, ready to eat, when I notice onions in my plate. I hate them, but resign to just pick them out and pass them to my father and uncles who will gladly take extra. My cousin, 13 years old, who’s sitting beside me, notices and decides to comment. I’m 19 years old.)

Cousin: “[My Name], what are you doing?”

Me: “I don’t like onions; I’m taking them out.”

Cousin: *cringe* “I don’t like them, too, but my parents showed me manners!” *she then proceeds to hold her breath in an attempt to numb the taste and forces herself to eat some*

(Truth be told, parenting never was a strong point in this family. I pretty much raised myself up but I always have had a love for education, etiquette, and protocol — which the rest of the family loathes. So, no one cares about “proper manners,” and she’s really only imposing it on herself. I don’t reply, thinking if it makes her feel great, why not? But, soon enough, I can see the struggle. She looks pretty green, has to take a pause to breathe in and out before taking a bite, and is clearly getting a gag reflex.)

Me: “You know, you look super green. Stop. Nobody cares if you just pass on the onions and not eat them yourself. It’s ok, I swear. Don’t do that to yourself, please.”

Cousin: “No, I’m fine. I have manners, [My Name].”

(She’s having tears forming at this point and won’t listen to me. The rest of the family are being oblivious to the situation. I know what’s coming and distance myself as much as I can from my cousin. I make a last attempt to talk her out of it.)

Me: “[Cousin], look, good manners are important but vomiting on the table is not appropriate, too…”

(She opened her mouth to reply to me, only to empty her stomach all over her plate, table, floor, and herself. Cue for the rest of the family to wake up and start a crisis. Who got blamed? Had to clean up? And somehow got talked into taking her cousin to a medical clinic? Yes, that would be me. I didn’t mind as it excused me to leave early. I also know I’m the only one who would decide it was bad enough and not to blame my cousin who just had good intentions despite the results. And, that’s how we found out that night that she has an intolerance to onions.)

Not An Ally

, , , , , | Related | June 23, 2017

Between the ages of 13-15 I began to realize I was attracted to women as well as men (I am female) but had no one to talk about it in my family, which is extremely religious with southern roots, and not very accepting.

I would always hear the adults badmouthing anyone “different” and saying they should “get what they deserved.” It scared me into being what they all thought a little girl should be and pretty much just keeping quiet, I honestly never spoke to my mom much unless I had some medical issue I couldn’t solve on my own because she was the worst and always told me that a little girl should be “seen and not heard.” My “being good” earned me the love and affection of the adults in the family and they all fawned over me and babied me as long as I was well behaved and fit the image they had grown accustomed to.

As a child I had a close relationship with my first cousins, my dad’s sister’s kids, and when I was about 15, I broke down and told my aunt’s oldest daughter over the phone that I was attracted to women. She was stunned into silence but seemed accepting. I felt relieved. I thought I finally had someone to talk to.

A few mornings later, my mom storms into my room, rips my cell phone off the charger and rips the computer modem out off the wall, then leaves. I think maybe I left some chore undone and quickly get out of bed, scrambling to find out what it is, while my mom watches me silently.

Soon she calls me into the living room and produces my missing cell phone, then demands I dial the number to a girl I like, whose name I previously mentioned to my cousin. She speaks to the girl’s mother and makes me listen as her parents began screaming at her. She gets the mother’s attention and tells her “If your daughter ever calls my daughter again, I’ll call the cops and send my daughter to a girls’ home.”

I have no idea what a girls’ home is but I am already freaked out and don’t want to find out. Turns out my cousin relayed our conversation to my aunt who called my mom and the rest of our family, making sure to cover all family in THREE STATES. Everyone went ballistic, my mom threatened me, my dad threatened the other girl, and the phone was ringing off the hook with calls from nosy family members.

Fast forward to last year. My same aunt’s middle daughter is discovered to be a closeted lesbian with a girlfriend and a slew of pictures of the two of them all over social media, some involving little to no clothing. Before anyone can say a word, my aunt loses it and goes on this tirade about how everyone should mind their own business and is suddenly the worlds biggest supporter of LGBTQ+ rights. Of course no one says anything because “Everyone knows how [Aunt] is when it comes to her kids.” So everything gets swept under the rug.

Dude, f*** this family.

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