You’ll Die Before They Get It

(Every summer the cousins on my dad’s side have a weekend get together at his mom’s house. Our great-grandpa was known for being hard of hearing and sight. As a kid our uncle was run over by our great-grandpa with a lawn mower. Our uncle survived with less toes than normal. However, our grandma was always extremely protective of us whenever she heard Grandpa start the mower up. I’m 12 and my sister is 10.)

Grandma: “Kids, get inside! Grandpa is mowing!”

(As we collect our toys, my sister asks our 14-year-old cousin why we have to go in. Our cousin gives us the same explanation I just gave. The uncle who was run over is her dad.)

Sister: “Did he die?”

Cousin: “No, [Uncle] is my dad.”

Sister: “I understand, but did he die when Grandpa ran him over?”

Cousin: “He got run over when he was four. I hadn’t even been born yet.”

Sister: “I get that! I just want to know if the mower killed him!”

Cousin: “If he had died, [Cousin #2], [Cousin #3], [Cousin #4], and I wouldn’t have been born! He got hit when he was four! We hadn’t been born! If he had died, I wouldn’t be here!”

Sister: “Yes! But did he die?”

Me: *holding back tears* “NO!”

(Needless to say, our grandma got quite the kick out of hearing this story. It was a great reason for taking longer than we should have to escape Grandpa’s blades of t(o)error.)