Back in September I went to this family reunion that my mom and some of her other genealogy pals had been planning for over a year. Incidentally, I was on the steering committee for this event as well but the main function of my job seemed to be doing absolutely nothing. I’d go to the meetings and I’d sit around drinking coffee, nodding my head and saying, "Yep! Sounds grrrr-eat! Hey, is there any more of that dip?" I’m nothing if not helpful okay? Somebody had to eat that dip. The only reason the family reunion is even relevant to this story is that I think it’s kind of a funny place to be at when you arrive at the realization that your uncle – how do you say – peddles the pot.
It was getting late in the afternoon on the day of the reunion and I was standing out on the side of the road chatting and eating ice cream with Kev, my cousin Ivan and his girlfriend Angela. It was way too cold to be eating ice cream but we noticed the store up the road sold Kawartha Dairy ice cream so really, we didn’t have any choice. After a bit we were joined by my other cousin who shall remain nameless. The next thing I know, my aunt and uncle were getting in their car and she says, "Hey [Cousin who shall remain nameless]! Do you want to "talk" to [Uncle who shall remain nameless]?" Her tone was a bit odd so I was compelled to keep my eye on the situation while our conversation continued on and I noted the palms of my cousin and uncle skim together.
Damn! It was like in the movies when you see a montage looking back over someone’s life. All the little clips came together and all the things I’d always thought were really fucking weird about that part of the family made sense. Like this one time, just after I’d moved out on my own when they trying to set me up with this guy Joe who I’d gone to grade school with up north. I could never figure out why someone my age was hanging around with my aunt and uncle anyway. It’s not like he’s the only one that was hanging around. Maybe if he was it wouldn’t seem so weird. I always just thought it was because, well, what the hell else is there to do up there but hang around?
Anyway, I don’t want you to get the idea that I’m pissed because my uncle is a drug dealer. Although, what the fuck? Isn’t it a bit weird to buy pot from your own uncle? I’m only pissed because my aunt and uncle got married when I was 10 and this somehow got by me for the past 20 freakin’ years.