Family Portrait
February 2023
My mother is in the hospital recovering from surgery, but will hopefully be released sometime tomorrow. I’m kind of on-call to go get her and bring her back home whenever that happens, so I’m staying at her place.
This time alone at Mom's has freed me up to really peruse the bookcase shelves. To take a good hard look at the tchotchkes and photos that occupy every corner and crevice of her domicile. Among my favorites, is this little gem.
Now, I don't want to cast aspersions upon my own kinfolk. So I will attempt to keep the most damning critiques of this little slice of Americana centered primarily around yours truly. I will, however, also vaguely detail my co-offenders.
Back Row: Me, looking my "Cletus the slack-jawed yokel" best.
Next Row: My great-grandmother, bravely sitting for a photo with ungrateful great-grandchildren while clearly suffering from an elderly person's arm injury of wrappable consideration (is that blood on her thumb?!?!) Yet still overly concerned with the actions of my youngest cousin alone in the front row. Which will be covered shortly.
Aloofly placed but technically in the same row as great-grandma, we see my confidently bemused cousin, who actually comes away from this photo in the best shape of all of us for real long-term recovery.
Next Row: My two sisters. Good. Lord. I’m not saying a damn thing beyond that, because I still see them both regularly enough to find myself on the business end of some swift retribution. Aww to hell with it….Pinky in the middle there has the sort of skewed underbite that leads me to believe she streetfights other young bumpkins for Skittles, and Red looks like an off-brand Honey Boo Boo.
Final Row: My youngest cousin. A child applying makeup in what I can only imagine is some weird department store photo trope from the 80s that made old people go wild with delight. Dear cousin, you hold no responsibility for what you were forced to do. Your success as a nearly functional adult is a testament to your strength.