The Infamous and Inquiring Cousin Returns.

Hey, remember this cousin (also highlighted nine or so months later here? She was back in her finest form at my brother's wedding the other weekend. Here are some things that I learned through her now wiser and nearly nine years-old self.

1. I talk about beer too much. When I begged to differ, she informed me that the night before I talked about buying two pounds of beer. Riiiiight. Well, perhaps all of that dancing to no music got to your head, cousin. RUDE.

2. Drinking rum is gross. That's what pirates drink. (It doesn't matter that I was on an island that PRODUCED rum. I was gross for drinking ANY rum.)

3. Sparkly nail polish is the best. (I concur with this particular bit.)

4. Upon finding out that my mom was no longer married to my dad, she wondered why. My mom informed her that my dad had married someone else. Cousin's response? "WHAT. A. JERK. No one should leave a pretty lady like you." (Lesson to learn? She listens to EVERYTHING you say and will regurgitate it and/or inquire further information from you.)

Despite her hinting at the fact that I might talk about drinking too much*, she still makes me laugh really, really hard. She's is one of the funniest kids I have ever met.


*Auntie Em pointed out to me that this was silly. Our entire family enjoys bonding over a beer or seven. Cousin had better get used to it now.

Only seven years.

This past weekend, P.I.C. and I had the opportunity to celebrate our wedding with our extended family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, canine relatives, they all trekked out to rural Wisconsin to visit and celebrate.

Including one particular cousin. Remember this one?

Well, we had a lovely cake with a bejeweled "Z" as a cake-topper. Well, this "Z" looked kind of like the number seven. My uncle jokingly asks me, "Hey, why do you have a "7" on the top of your cake?" My smart ass husband responded, "That's because we're going to have seven years together."

My response? "YOU ARE NASTY, P.I.C."

Of course, cousin says to me, "Why did you call him nasty?"

I told her, "You didn't hear him say that we were only going to stay married for seven years."

She then proceeded to give him a look that would wither a lovely rose (and likely make someone cry if they weren't expecting it) for a good thirty seconds. She then looks back at me and says, "That's not nice."

I said, "I KNOW. That's why I called him 'nasty,' obviously."

She then went back to eating her full plate of baked beans and side of "monster" cheese.

Clearly, my specialness runs in the family, doesn't it?

Here's to the next seven years of my life.

One more thing...

While you're making your blog reading rounds today, head on over to thesmartlychicago.com and leave me a little comment love:

http://www.thesmartlychicago.com/?p=842

It is a fun little piece focusing on the finer things in life: family and fromage. I also talk about beer, but I didn't know if there was a way to say that with an "f" and I didn't want to kill the alliteration I had going on in that previous sentence. Seriously, I'll be your best friend. Well, maybe not for a whole day. Eh, yeah, maybe we don't have to be best friends. But for like a minute, I shall think of you fondly.