Sunday, November 29, 2009

DMoG, Day Twenty-nine

43,500 words, and the Plucky Girl Detective has run into a snag. Her prime suspect and newly discovered love interest has turned out to be a 150 year old giant iguana whose skin plays YouTube videos of people falling down in comical ways whenever he's exposed to daylight.

"I forgive you for keeping your secret," says the PGD. "All that matters to me is that you aren't a friggin' vampire."

"Shh," he replies, "in this one, the guy trips over a fire hose..."

29: I'm thankful that your relatives aren't my relatives. I have spent the last several months getting to know many of you in both bloggy world and the much more artificial, far less reliable "real" world, and I have reached one inescapable conclusion:

Your families are insane.

I won't name names here nor link blogs, in part because I respect your privacy but mostly because this way I can maintain plausible deniability, but in the last year since I began blogging I've read some pretty hair raising stuff. Seriously, my hair is standing STRAIGHT UP just thinking about some of the nonsense the fellow swimmers in your wacky gene pool are likely to do.

For example, one of you has two brothers who mouthed off to Mexican police in Tijuana, then managed to pull off the ultimate shell game when retrieving their driver's licenses and making a break for it before being hauled off to jail.

Another one tells of the time her sister started laughing during a dance concert in which she was participating (this hysteria brought on by the understandably humorous accident of a fellow dancer's skirt falling off before the dance had even begun) only to giggle so hard she peed all over the stage, and then when the teacher's little princess daughter who always got all the solos came fluttering onto the stage she fell down in the pee, which made the sister laugh and pee even more.

And what about that dad of one of yours who got into a squabble with a fellow golfer and engaged in a low-speed chase all over the course in their golf carts?

Nuts, I tell ya. Loonies, plain and simple.

One blogger friend of mine has a couple of sisters who back-sassed several large, mean, easily provoked women at the most bizarre activity ever sponsored by any religious group - an all-girls camp out on the church lawn - and ended the night in a verbal brawl that had their mother hiding in the bottom of her sleeping bag.

And most recently, one of you blogged about a number of women who got together in a Park City condo and engaged in a group face-waxing that had one woman charging twenty-five cents a pop to the others for the chance to peek through the slit in the door frame at the bearded lady carnival act they had once known as their eldest sister. This same event left an unsuspecting niece-in-law with just one eyebrow, all because the waxing was carried out, not by a professional aesthetician, but by a waitress.

All of this leads me to reflect on just how grateful I am that I come from a normal, boring, middle-of-the-road family. Because, honestly, with your crazy relatives hanging around, I don't know how you people can even show your faces in public.

At least let Amber work on your little mustache problem...

After receiving six comments, I'm feeling guilty for not being...um...completely up front with this post. As much as I would love to hang all the above antics on the families of you, my fellow blogger, I must confess, all of these stories are, in fact, about me. And, you know, my relatives. And this is the proverbial tip of the antler, let me tell you.

8 comments:

Mallory said...

This Thanksgiving, my little sister boldly announced to some of my cousins, "...Our family is the normal one..." to which all of my cousins burst out laughing.

(Not that I think they have any room to laugh.)

Kazzy said...

You come to realize that every single family is boo-boo-kitties. Some just make it more obvious than others.

InkMom said...

You know, we frequently ask ourselves if were abnormal, or if everyone else is. But I wouldn't have it any other way!

The Garden of Egan said...

Uhm, I do believe that the waxing incident might have been ya'll!

I'm glad my relatives are finally gone, cause I'm thinking I couldn't handle too much more insanity! JK!!!

It was a great weekend of insanity.

Kristina P. said...

Oh, no, your family it TOTALLY sane! Which is why I love you guys!

Debbie said...

Isn't it funny how we also feel a little better when we read about other people. Yet, those people are feeling better reading about me. It makes my head spin!

myimaginaryblog said...

Is there a prize for Most Attentive Reader? Because *I* figured out these must be your stories *before* the disclaimer. (But that's only because I remembered an earlier post of yours that had to do with waxings gone wrong at a female family retreat.)

That peeing story is the funniest thing to never happen in my own wackadoodle family.

(But I will tell you something we did do. When my mom would leave us kids in the car for too long while she ran errands in some retail establishment, one of our boredom-evading measures was to roll down the windows a crack, duck down, and then emit loud disharmonious humming sounds. People would come out of the stores and hear a strange sound and not know where it was coming from.)

I hope you had a great Thanksgiving holiday.

AS Amber said...

Wow. I'm thankful your relatives aren't my relatives, too.

That would be scary.