“That’s harsh,” Cousin Bucky sympathizes as he eyes the giant gelatinous clump of Aunt Zelda’s potato salad on your plate.
One spoonful of your aunt Zelda’s potato salad is a chore to force down. You’ve been served enough to put down a rhinoceros. And not a weak or sickly rhinoceros that’s been having a tough time of it, but a young strapping rhinoceros that really takes care of itself and has a long and fruitful life ahead of it.
“That’s enough to kill a rhinoceros,” Cousin Bucky tells you,
“I know,” you tell him.
“And rhinoceroses are huge.”
“Way bigger than you are.”
“Like twenty times bigger.”
“I get it!” You yell.
“What do you think makes her potato salad so horrible?” Cousin Bucky asks.
“She puts way too much eye-of-newt in it,” you tell him.
“Is that what weird stuff is?” Cousin Bucky says matter-of-factly. “I thought it was monkey brains.”
“She puts some kind of curse on the potato salad then she makes everyone eat it,” you tell your cousin Bucky, “why do you think she brings it in a cauldron?”
“My mom says all that stuff about her putting curses on people is just rumors,” Cousin Bucky replies.
“That because Aunt Zelda put a curse on your mom.”
Cousin Bucky stares at you with disbelief.
“Do you remember that time Cousin Roscoe made that crack about Aunt Zelda having chunky thighs?” You ask.
“Yes,” he responds with apprehension.
“And the next week he grew a tail.”
“Grandma said he was medical miracle.”
“Most of Grandma’s miracles tend to fall under the category of aberration of nature,” you explain. “Remember how he couldn’t wear shorts that summer; he had to tuck that sucker down his pant leg.”
“I remember,” Cousin Bucky confirms.
Your cousin Roscoe had the tail surgically removed, but it grew back. Then they had it surgically removed again, but it grew back again. Then had it surgically removed a third time and that time it only came back as nub.
“You’ve seen the nub,” you tell Cousin Bucky.
“That nub is going to be a problem in the prison showers,” Cousin Bucky says. “You shouldn’t try to rob a convenience store if you have a nub.”
“And for so many other reasons,” you add.
As you and Cousin Bucky ponder he significance of a nub and how it would relate to prison showers, your uncle Monty plops down next you.
“Looks like I’ll be dining with you ladies today,” Uncle Monty bellows with his fog horn of a voice.
You sigh because it’s going to be a very long day.