Aselin

I have lots of family stories that shouldn’t be told in proper company. When Scott and I got married it was like the Cleavers were joining with the Addams. I tried to warn him; he didn’t believe me. “Every family is odd” he asserted. While this is true, some are odder than others.

One family story that gets retold every so often is about my cousin. I only have two official first cousins. Surprisingly they aren’t married to each other. One of them I met for the first time in 1999 at my grandmother’s funeral, when he wanted to beat up my dad, but had gotten too drunk to follow through with it. The other one I’ve known most of my life.

This cousin, married his sweetheart, a trapeze artist in the Barnum and Bailey Circus, and had two spunky kids. These kids are grown now, but how they made it to adulthood is a mystery to all of us.

Years ago we were all enjoying each other at a family gathering in rural Louisiana. Here on the bayou the scene was a bit like the beginning of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, only more light. It was early in the event so no one was drunk yet, and the bluegrass music had not begun to play. We were all enjoying a fabulous dinner when Nicole, the oldest of my cousin’s two children ran into the house, covered in mud, in full alarm mode.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!! Billy is eating frogs!”

Every plate was immediately pushed away as all of our stomachs turned.

Nicole’s mother, Lorna the Trapeze Artist, sprung into action. Pushing her chair aside with a swoop she was up and over the table with the skill of, well, a trapeze artist.

Nicole put her hands up to slow her mother’s advance, and with the aplomb of her wise five years said, “Don’t worry Mom, I made him peel them first.”

As I tried to explain to my disbelieving husband, my family isn’t like anything he could have imagined. Repeatedly he would pat my hand and shush me. That was until he actually met them.