Giving thanks for crazy relatives...

... the 2007 edition! In which Kristina blogs about real, true, actual conversations that occurred with or around her at the many Thanksgiving festivities in Charlottesville this year. I didn't think that much could top last year's activities. But just as I was despairing of passing another holiday without any stories, Patrick's relatives came through. But first....

Thursday - Dinner with my mom, her boyfriend, my grandparents, Patrick, and Laura.

Laura (immediately upon arriving at my mom's): Hi. My hand is gross because the honey dripped out of my pita onto the car seat.
Mom: I think there's medication for that.

Mom's Boyfriend (a propos of nothing): Why do white girls like black guys so much?
Laura: Uhm. Miscegenation means less liklihood for genetic issues.
Mom's Boyfriend: [blank stare]
Mom: It's because black men have big you-know-whats!

Patrick (in regard to my mom's electronic whoopie cushion, which delights her to no end): I could make a ring back out of that.
Me: Ring back is a great euphemism for fart.

Laura (who decided she wanted Patrick to make her a ring tone out of Tom Lehrer's We Will All Go Together When We Go): Am I a bad anthropologist if my phone's ring tone sings about Hottentots and Eskimos? Eh, I don't really care.

Friday - Dinner in Maryland with all of my inlaws.

Ellen (during a game of Apples to Apples): I don't have anything good. I'm going to commit seppuku.
Jeff: Seppuku?
Me: It's like hara-kari.
Tak: Me too. I'm going to commit sudoku too.

Ellen (at dinner): This turkey leg is delicious.
Me (to Patrick): Why do white girls like dark meat so much?

And finally, the pièce de résistance, a story from Patrick's aunt Ellen that went horribly awry, albeit only in my mind.

Ellen: I was at the library, and there were three kids, maybe 1, 2, and 7 years old, and a mother and a father. I saw the 2-year-old pinch the 1-year-old, right here (indicates the fleshy area between her thumb and forefinger) in the chub. I wanted to say something, but it's not my place to parent these kids. So I said loudly, "Looks like someone pinched someone else." A few minutes later, the father says, "Hey kids, let's go." And he left with the two boys. The 1-year-old and mother were a different family! And I felt so bad because I didn't say anything about this kid pinching the other one. He's going to turn out nasty, that kid, if he keeps going around pinching strangers in the chub.
Jim: He should learn not to do that. You can't just pinch another person's chub.
Ed: Right. Because one day he'll grab the wrong chub, and he'll be in trouble!

This story was way more drawn out (as Patrick's family is wont to do), so by the time Ed uttered that sentence, I was hiccuping with laughter. I turned to Patrick to see if he was similarly amused, but he gave me a blank look. So I excused myself to the bathroom, where I collapsed into silent fits of hysterics. Patrick came to check on me, and I explained what chub was a euphemism for and laughed so hard I started crying. He promptly took me out for a walk so that I didn't have to explain to his family what I found so funny. (I did end up explaining it to a subset of them later, but they didn't find it as funny as I did.)

Every once in a while, my inlaws make me laugh hysterically. Actually, it's usually Ellen's fault. Every once in a while, Ellen makes me laugh hysterically.


Anonymous said…
Glad to see it's not just my family!
I got so fed up with them after a recent get together I created Crazy Relatives Bingo!. Sounds like you can contribute some entries to these!

Leave them in the guestbook and I'll put them in!

Nice post!

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