Holidays with my cousins were a lot more like cage boxing than Hallmark Christmases. I had more than forty first cousins, mostly wild animals. By the time my aunts and uncles herded them to the scene of the crime, they just opened the car doors and all Hell broke loose. Exhausted from defending themselves and the babies on the ride over, it was every man for himself. God help anybody in the way.
They’d rip through the house under the guise of needing the bathroom and a drink of water, destruction in their wake, before being cast out into the yard or to the barn if it was raining, like demons into swine. While they passed through, they destroyed anything in their wake. We always hid our loot, but the evil little devils usually managed to mark something for destruction, even if it was no more precious than a dish or Christmas ornament. Actually, they were cast out onto the other cousins. We’d get a baseball or football team going, all the big kids on one team, so the little ones never got a chance to bat, or got mowed down in football. They’d go squalling in to their nosy daddies who’d come out long enough to straighten us out a vague semblance of fairness, often lingering to play a while.
Once the games started, it was chaos. It was survival of the meanest, shoving kids down, stomping eggs little ones dropped, squalling, and even a few bloody noses. Crazy Larry kept trying to pee on us while we were distracted. One aunt in particular didn’t think her big kids ought to have to share at the end of the day. It was perfectly fine it her kids here gaged all the nuts, best of the Christmas feast, or desserts. She heaped their plates with goodies, saying she’d eat what they didn’t. Her boy Kenwin would demand, More chicken(turkey, ham)Mama, more shicken!” She loaded his plate till he staggered, unconcerned that there was a tribe to feed besides him.
Ah, family. Better get busy. I have company coming. But not Crazy Larry. He’s in the witness protection program.
Since a lot of you seemed to enjoy hearing about my cousin Evil Larry who tormented my poor brother so, I thought I’d give you a little more. Like I said, we were periodically subjected to cousinly visits, whether or not we wanted them. Hence, Evil Larry was often around to inflict mayhem. Once he stood on a fence post in our front yard shouting racial epithets at black people passing by. Naturally, we flew in the house to report it. Mother would have murdered us for this type of behavior. She came flying out in a fury, snatched him off the fence, and dragged him back in the house. I was in high hopes, she’d kill him, at the very least, but all she did was threaten him with death by fly swat if he dared show his face in the front yard again. She must have scared him, since he spent the rest of the day out of public sight. That was quite an intimidation act for her, but still disappointing for us.
Dear Auntie Linda, I am a sixteen-year old girl. There are four of us children. My parents insist we attend church services with them twice on Sunday and on Wednesday night. If one of them is sick or can’t go, we all still have to go. We have to line up the seats like a bunch of dopes and sit together. I hate going to this crazy church and don’t share their outrageous beliefs. This isn’t even a regular church, my grandpa just stands around in in old store on Sundays and lectures us about how to act and what to wear. It’s mostly about women leading men into sin and “thou shalt not……” I wouldn’t go, but if I stay at home I have to go to church. I love my mother and the little kids, but could do without Dad if I had somewhere else to go. What is a kid supposed to do if their family makes them go to a “nut church.” Hate it!
A Martha Stewart Christmas
Nutsrok 