(While attending post-secondary school, I share an apartment with two of my cousins, one of whom attends a different school. My program is only two years, while hers is four, so immediately after I complete my program, I have to travel away for a job. As I’m not totally moving, I keep paying my share of the rent, so I can have a room to come home to when I have days off from the job. I am at the apartment for perhaps ten days over a three-month period, May to July. My aunt, my cousins’ mom, has come to visit for a few days, in July. The apartment is a complete and utter disaster; there is a horrific fruit fly infestation and mold on dishes waiting by the sink. It’s disgusting. I am in town, as well.)

Aunt: “[Cousins #1 & #2]! This is a complete pigsty! How did it get like this? Have you guys not been doing your chores at all?”

Cousin #1: “Well, I’ve been too busy with school. I was so behind on so many assignments! My professor gave me a summer extension.”

Cousin #2: “It wasn’t my turn to do the dishes.”

Aunt: “Well, whose turn was it?”

Cousin #2: “It was [My Name]’s!”

Aunt: “But hasn’t [My Name] been away for work since May?”

Cousin #2: “Well, yes, but—”

Aunt: “So, you haven’t done any dishes since she left?”

Cousin #2: “But it was her turn!”

Aunt: “Were the dishes done before she left?”

Cousin #1: “Yes, because it was my turn before her.”

Aunt: “So, what you’re saying is that you used dishes, cooked, and so on, and left the dirty dishes for [My Name] to clean up, even though she wasn’t actually living here, and kept piling them up, waiting for her to come do them, because it was her turn?”

Cousins: “Yes!”

Aunt: “SOAP. GLOVES. NOW.”

(It was a huge relief to have them put in their place. They are wonderful girls, but it was absolutely ridiculous that they somehow expected me to be responsible for cleaning up after them when I wasn’t even living in the apartment. One cousin had to do all dishes, while I helped the other scrub out the cupboard to get rid of the fruit flies. Tip: apple cider vinegar will draw them. I now have a major sensitivity to fruit flies, and deep-clean my own house anytime even one shows up.)

(Our cousin has a job that causes him to move to new areas quite often. His latest contract is in an area close to my brother’s home, which is currently unoccupied, due to my brother’s health, so he moves in.)

Mother: “So, you know [Cousin] has moved into [Brother]’s home? Well, he’s growing drugs.”

Me: “What?”  

Mother: “He’s growing pot.”

Brother: “Oh, for God’s sake, he’s growing pot plants.”

Mother: “Yes, pot plants.”

Brother: “He’s growing plants in pots: herbs and vegetables.”

Mother: *with air quotes* “’Herbs.’”

(She was only joking, but in the worst possible taste; [Cousin]’s older brother died due to an overdose. A joke like this getting back to his parents would devastate them. She couldn’t understand why neither of us found it to be funny.)

(My cousins are visiting us for the weekend, and we are about to head out for my youngest brother’s soccer game. My dad, brothers, uncle, and female cousin have already left, leaving my mom, aunt, my male cousin, who is ten at the time, and me. I am thirteen. My cousin gets a bloody nose, and it’s a pretty bad one, with blood running down his face. I take him to the bathroom and get him cleaned up, then notice I’ve used the last of the toilet paper to do so, and there are no tissues or paper towels in sight.)

Me: “How are we supposed to stop the bleeding?!”

Cousin: “You’re the one who’s supposed to know this stuff! Think of something!”

(I suddenly remember a tip my English teacher — an avid outdoorsman, and a little weird — told us. I go into the lower cabinet and grab one of my mom’s tampons. My cousin doesn’t know what it is, so I just unwrap it and stick the cotton part up his nose. It quite effectively stops the bleeding, and we go into the kitchen where my mom and aunt are.)

Mom: “[My Name], what the heck is up [Cousin]’s nose?!”

Me: “A tampon. His nose started bleeding!”

(My aunt is laughing too hard to respond at this point.)

Mom: “Why did you put a tampon up his nose?”

Me: “His nose was bleeding, and in the movie we just watched in English, a girl pretending to be a guy sticks a tampon up her nose for her fake nosebleeds, and Mr. [Teacher] says it’s really effective!”

Mom: *face-palms* “While I’m sure it might be, it’s not something he can have up his nose in public!”

Cousin: “Wait, what is it supposed to be for?”

Mom: *freezes*

Aunt: *falls over laughing*

Me: “It goes in a woman’s lady parts when she gets her period. It’s made to absorb blood!”

Cousin: “So… it’s doing its job?”

(I’m hanging out with my cousins one evening when I tell them the shenanigans I’m going through while training my new dog.)

Me: “My dog is having trouble with the ‘down’ command, and I’ve had to try a few different kind of treats to entice her. I’m surprised the duck treats didn’t work, but shocked the beef liver ones didn’t either. She loves those things!”

Cousin #1: “Did you end up finding something that worked?”

Me: “Yeah, I tried the salami I had in my fridge for my lunch. Success!”

Cousin #2: “That makes sense. I totally would go down for salami.”

([Cousin #1] and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. It took [Cousin #2] a solid minute before she realized what she said. She turned red!)

(At my family’s Christmas dinner, my uncle is talking to my cousin. His mom — my grandma — hears them, and asks this gem.)

Grandma: “Oh, you know [Cousin]?”

Uncle: “Yes, Mom. He’s my son.”

Me: *snorts into potatoes from a table away*

(In her defence, she’s 80 years old with eight kids. Not exactly easy to keep track.)