You face about two million challenges a day – successfully getting a cab, deftly avoiding nosy neighbors, barely managing to stay in schedule, and the list goes on.
But there’s this one challenge I don’t think I’ll ever be up for – handling relatives. I’d much rather handle a rat infestation. Thank you.
Like most people, I’ve been blessed with a liberal dose of The Lesser Vultures. Who are these, you ask? These are the kinds of human scavengers you’re better off without. They prey on your moolah, your personal space, your clothes, your books, your makeup, and stake their claim to your stuff like it were their birthright.
Seriously? I don’t like you. Go away!
Now I’m okay with my family. Not okay with relatives, because they replace you real quick. I’ve this cousin, (we’ll call him “A”) who had a bit of a fall out with another cousin, (let’s call her “B”), who he was best friends with. So naturally, A looked to me to always be there for him. And of course being the one prize moron that I am, I was. And it was me who suggested he go fix things with B, and they did, and now, surprise, surprise, I’m always left out.
That’s another reason I hate relatives. I get sucked in. I get attached pretty quick. And attachments hurt like a mean arse pitbull, teeth snapping, chasing you while you’ve got a broken leg.
Funnily enough, they never remember your birthday, but they do remember this one test you took and they’re like “Are the results out yet? Did you get through?” And if by any chance, God forbid, you haven’t, there’s no end to the drama.
Every single damn day. What’s with that?! Do I ask you about your kid’s report card, woman?
Then there’s the most annoying vulture of them all: the meanest, conniving, sick and sadistic relative who’s always curious about your status updates and your profile pictures and “You look like a fat slut. High time you got married. We gotta look for boys!”
And why, why, why is it that when these people come to visit, they grow roots and never seem to leave? Is there some kind of rule that requires you to stay and never uproot your sorry butt and maybe get yourself home?
Does anyone else have relatives like these or is it just me? Help!