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    Category: Cousins

    You Think They’d Be Sick Of It

    | Kaitaia, New Zealand | Cousins

    (I am staying at my uncle’s house for my grandmother’s funeral. My dad’s cousin arrives.)

    Me: *to my cousins* “Gosh, I haven’t seen [Dad's Cousin] since your mum’s 21st when I vomited into my dessert bowl at the dinner table!”

    (Dad’s cousin sees me.)

    Dad’s Cousin: “Hey, [My Name]! I haven’t seen you since you vomited into your plate at the dinner table!”

    Best Laid (To Rest) Plans

    | UK | Cousins, Parents & Guardians, Siblings

    (My grandparents die within six months of each other, and after the second funeral, my dad has lost his parents and was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and I’m on my third funeral in eight months – it’s been a rough year so we’re more than a little drunk and a little maudlin.)

    Dad: “When I go…”

    Me: “Dad.”

    Dad: “No. When I go, I don’t want you to be sad.”

    Sister: “We’re going to be sad.”

    Dad: “I don’t want you get all dressed up and stuff. I want to be put in a cardboard box, driven in a blue van, and buried under [his local pub].”

    Me: “I’m not sure they’ll let us do that.”

    Sister: “We’ll do it at night.”

    Me: “What, with a stealth JCB digger?”

    Dad: “I’m serious. Jeans, blue van, party.”

    Me: “We can do that.”

    Cousin: “Does the van have to blue, [Uncle]?”

    Dad: “Yes. That’s the most important bit.”

    (To this day he still wants to be buried in his jeans, in a cardboard box, and driven in a van. Though he’s more flexible on the colour.)

    Ironic Meets Moronic

    | Lincolnshire, England, UK | Cousins

    (My cousin and I are driving, having a deep debate.)

    Cousin: “I do wish the Muslims would realise we westerners are not all the same.”

    (He’s still not grasped the irony!)

    This Tale Has No Dead End

    | Sydney, NSW, Australia | Cousins, Top

    (My brother has had an accident. I visit him almost every day, and even make sure I am in the recovery room when he comes out of surgery. My parents are panicking. I hold his hand, speaking to him and getting him to squeeze my hand back in response. I am able to calm my parents once they know he is responding. We didn’t talk about it afterwards. About two months later at my Mum’s birthday dinner one of our cousins comes up to me.)

    Cousin: “Oh, my God. I have so much respect for you after what I heard about you.”

    Me: “Umm, what did you hear?”

    Cousin: “[Brother] told me what you did. I love you so much for what you did.”

    Me: “What I did do?”

    Cousin: *tearing up* “It just makes me cry!”

    Me: “What did I do?”

    Cousin: “[Brother] told me that he thought he was dead after his surgery. He couldn’t see anything or hear anything. Then he heard your voice talking to him. He thought he was DEAD. You called him back and held his hand.”

    (It was so nice to hear that. We tease the bejeezus out of each other but really don’t tell each other how we feel…)

    This Argument Turned Ugly

    | Prince George, BC, Canada | Children, Cousins, Parents & Guardians

    (We’re all at my grandparent’s house for a birthday party. My mom has just told my cousin, who is about seven at the time, to do something he doesn’t want to do.)

    Cousin: *huffily* “You’re not my mom! Why do I have to listen to you?”

    Mom: *jokingly, but making a somewhat scary face at the same time* “Because I’m bigger, meaner, and uglier than you are!”

    (My cousin grapples with this for a minute before coming up with a retort.)

    Cousin: “You are not uglier than me!”


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