Monday, September 5, 2016

Notes On Yet Another Wedding

image from Pinterest

Family members are spread out across three tables at the reception, telling stories about our childhood that for some odd reason always seem to involve trips to the hospital.

Me (smugly):  I’m the only one who never had to go to the emergency room when we were kids.  I’m also the only one who never had her nose broken!

Youngest Sister:  It could still happen.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sibling: Remember when (Brother #1) was shot in the back and the first family member to make it to the hospital was Uncle Fred*?

(note:  our late Uncle Fred* was a mortician).

Family Friend:  Wait…(Brother #1) got shot in the back?  Who shot him?

Sibling: (Brother #2).

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Brother #4 is an adrenalin junkie with poor decision-making skills (years ago he was featured on an episode of the Discovery Channel called Real Life Medical Miracles).  At the end of a long and complicated story about him, three dogs, and a skunk, one of the nieces is shaking her head in disbelief.

Sibling:  It’s true.  You know that little voice that we all have in the back of our brain – the one that tells you not to do dumb stuff like stick a fork in the wall socket?

Niece: Are you saying Uncle (Brother #4) doesn’t listen to his little voice?

Sibling: I’m saying his little voice was dropped on its head as a child.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dinner is delicious; it’s also Southern. Barbecue, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans cooked with onion and a ham hock. The wedding cake is red velvet. There is a lonely-looking salad, included perhaps to keep the entire menu from being blackballed by the AHA. 

Out of town guest (poking the chicken dubiously): Maybe if it was baked…

Local guest: Oh, honey.  This is Missouri.  We don’t bake anything.


Lady Anne said...

This sounds suspiciously like a gathering of The Squire's family. When we were first married, our "pillow talk" was mostly about his various scars, including the one on his forehead where his brother hit him with an axe. Not deliberately; brother was trying to cut the head off a chicken, holding the axe handle about an inch from the blade. The Squire leaned over to see what was going on, just as brother lifted the axe for a "mighty" swing.

And Missouri must be similar to North Carolina. If it isn't fried, it's boiled to death - 30 minutes for corn on the cob?

Sam said...

In Connecticut, we bake things but this menu made me hungry. As for the various sibling stories- that made me laugh. Until I remembered me and my 3 younger sisters duking it out a lot. Sister #3 was the instigator of all things bloody. Neighborhood kids got mad a t her and tied to her to a old painted flagpole. Her revenge? Starting a neighborhood brawl that left the older boys with black eyes and 1 broken nose (I did that). My mom had a large amount of bandaids and peroxide on hand. But no broken bones on us.

Bunnykins said...

Sounds wonderful. That's the kind of thing I miss as the dozens of cousins, all that's left of my multitude of great aunts and uncles, came in off the farm and out of the service to settle down in respectable larger towns and cities, or emigrate, get busy and lose touch.

Jackie said...

This was a very entertaining entry, I chuckled all the way through.

Shay said...

My family is usually good for a laugh.