Easter part 2

I have decided to write on another curious family phenomenon. I would like to say that my family are a bunch of eccentric characters who are all from some unique background or have a plethora of stories in which to share, but this is not always the case. On Dad's side we have a bunch of weirdos, that's for sure. Plagued by mental illnesses, a need for power and control, and some questionable closeted homosexuality, it lead for a rather damaged childhood on his part. I have chosen not to acknowledge them, mostly stemming from his mother's wrath, abuse and telltale lesbian bitterness. On Mom's, we have a different set of issues. Mom's parents were children during the Great Depression Era. Hence they became hoarders, never put money into any bank because they were not trusted, and became rather paranoid. Mom's mother was the youngest of seven or eight children, and one of only two who reproduced. The rest equated childhood with having nothing and wearing rags and decided they would not reproduce themselves.

All the time we have the holiday tales of what aunt so and so did and didn't do. Perhaps the craziest of them all was Aunt Helen, who had a horse laugh and was always stealing from her longtime employers, not spending a dime on anything, and telling others how obnoxious they were. They all had more money than God according to their tax returns, but God is more likely to share the wealth than they ever were. Today we were treated for the millionth time to the story about the watermelon in the basement fridge. Since all the aunts were cheap and refused to spend on any form of extravagance, they all looked forward to holiday meals because that meant that they were all, more or less, getting free food from whoever was hosting the meal. Aunt Whoever was rather famous for packing it in, eating the weight of three or four grizzly bears at one sitting. Apparently when she came across a watermelon being stored in the basement refrigerator, she threw some tantrum at the end of the visit because they refused to share it with her. She would've probably eaten the entire thing, rind and all. Mom and her brother thought that was hysterical. Dad and I sat there stone faced with polite smiles on, tired of the fact that we had heard these stories before.

I tried to change the subject, telling them that I had been to see The Hunger Games the night before. Brian immediately jumped in to tell all something about it as he always does, I said "Slow down, relax. I'm getting to it, alright?" But no one seemed to pay much attention to that. I said I had been to this frozen yogurt chain Menchie's and their ploy for getting you to pay $7+ for a modest sized ice cream and they had to jump in and say whatever they wanted to about that as well. Eventually I stopped talking, I just went back to eating. I kind of wished I'd see a bunny outside being that it was Easter and I was missing my Lennon, but I might still.