We’re at my parents’ house for a casual family gathering. My mid-thirties cousin is on his third beer and has started his usual loop of talking about his crypto portfolio like it’s a rescue dog that just needs more time to thrive.

Cousin: “The thing about decentralized finance is, you gotta think long-term. That’s how the big players move.”

Uncle: “Last month, you said you were selling your car to invest in ‘digital land.'”

Cousin: “It’s called the metaverse. And yeah, it’s appreciating.”

Grandma: “Digital land? So it’s fake?”

Cousin: “It’s not fake, it’s virtual. That’s the future.”

Aunt: “The future better pay rent if it’s gonna live in my basement.”

Cousin: *Puffs up.* “Okay, laugh now, but when you’re all stuck here in the cold winter, I’ll be using my digital assets to buy land in Maui!”

We all pause. My aunt (his mom) sets down her drink, looks at him over her sunglasses, and hits him with the line of the day:

Aunt: “Sweetheart, you couldn’t ever finish Monopoly without rage-quitting. Maybe hold off on land deals.”

I decided not to chip in that he bought a virtual yacht and asked me for gas money on the same day.

I’m on a group call with family to organize a family reunion weekend. A cousin is speaking to another cousin who is hosting the reunion.

Traveling Cousin: “So, where are y’all again?”

Hosting Cousin: “Michigan.”

Traveling Cousin: “Is that in Illinois?”

I think this is bad enough, but the cousin hosting replies:

Hosting Cousin: “I don’t know.”

Easter is coming up, and I am discussing the plans for the season with some friends.

Friend: “We’re going to see family up in the mountains. What about you?”

Me: “We don’t do much anymore. My family has what is known as ‘The Easter Incident’.”

Friend: “What happened?”

Me: “What didn’t happen? One Easter, I was with my mother’s side of the family, about to enjoy dinner. Suddenly, my mom’s brother came storming through the house yelling at his girlfriend’s kids to get in the car because he was ‘getting the h*** out of here’, citing an argument with another family member about bubbles.”

Friend: “Bubbles?”

Me: “Children blowing bubbles.”

Friend: “Really?”

Me: “Really. He really did leave with his girlfriend and her kids. Ten minutes later, everyone was getting ready to eat, but nobody could find the deviled eggs. After a thorough investigation, it was determined by my cousin that my uncle ‘took the d*** eggs’. For whatever reason, that’s what caused some folks to break down and cry about the ordeal.”

Friend: “I mean, that’s weird, but I wouldn’t call it an incident—”

Me: “And then—”

Friend: “Oh, there’s more.”

Me: “Later that evening, as everyone was packing up to leave, an argument broke out regarding a specific dish of leftovers that had apparently been promised to two different families to take home. Cousin One’s girlfriend proceeded to semi-unknowingly take the dish to the car without anyone noticing. Seeing the dish missing, Cousin Two literally BLOCKED THE CAR so they couldn’t leave, screaming that he had been promised the dish. Cousin One then began threatening Cousin Two, insisting that he would run him over or something.”

Friend: “Okay, now this is more of an incident.”

Me: “This quality entertainment went on for several minutes before my sweet grandmother stormed out the door and yelled at Cousin Two to ‘Get the h*** out of the way and stop being a d*** pig!’ She then swore never to make the dish again as punishment.”

Friend: “D***. But you know what? I would still rather go to your family for Easter than mine.”

Me: “After hearing all that? Why?”

Friend: “It sounds like your family makes good food!”

We’re going to a family gathering type thing. I come downstairs to get into the car, and my mom notices my shirt.

Mom: “What’s that shirt?”

Me: “It’s the Konami cheat code.”

The Konami cheat code is the following symbols: up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, Start. It was used on certain games on the old Nintendo Entertainment System to add cheats like extra lives. It’s pretty well-known among gamers new and old.

Mom: “Change your shirt. [Aunt] might be there, and if she sees anything that looks like a secret code, she’ll think it’s QAnon, and then people will start shouting…”

I changed my shirt.

CONTENT WARNING: Dark Humor, Implied Abuse

My mother was just an awful, awful, awful person. She reveled in conflict and loved to inflict pain. There were only ever two modes with her: horrible or raging. When she finally died, we knew no one would want to celebrate her life. So, we sent an email that read:

Email: “Dear fellow survivors and victims of [Mom], the happy day has come! We invite you all to a celebration of the passing of the worst person any of us has ever known, [Mom’s Full Name], so we can all finally begin to heal from the trauma she inflicted upon all of us.”

We honestly didn’t expect much of a response, but we were overwhelmed by the number of people who were on board with our dark festival. The most surprising was my mother’s brother, an uncle we only knew through contemptuous reference.

On the day of the event, we laid out a buffet and loads of booze and kicked things off with “Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead”.

Next was a ceremony where we gathered around the toilet door with the box of her ashes and a ladle. We’d prepared well and layered a sheet of toilet paper in the bowl before and after each person was invited to share their “fondest” memory of the b**** who bore me.

My uncle started.

Uncle: “On the day my sister married, my father gathered us all together and said, ‘She’s gone now, and you will never have to put up with her again.’ We cried tears of joy, and every day that followed was better for her absence.” 

Then, he dumped and flushed a huge ladle of her ashes.

My younger brother went next.

Younger Brother: “My earliest memory of my mother is of her screaming like a madwoman and trashing the house while I hid under the stairs in my sister’s arms. That was her gift to me, my guardian angel, my sweet sister who always protected me from the monster who raised us.”

I cried so hard.

Those were some of the nicest words said that day as more than 200 people gathered to flush my vile mother down the toilet. She would have loved it. Some people want to watch the world burn, but others are only happy when they’re holding the matches.