Waits Family Annals

So I have a tendency to make jokes about people and things I probably shouldn’t. Every now and then, it comes back to bite me. My foot is not that delicious, but I eat it anyway.  In my youth and college days, I was frequently the one that would end any line of jokes. More often than not, I would say something and everyone would turn and look at me as if I had just peed on a sacred relic, then shake their heads and walk away. It’s okay, don’t pity me. I got used to it. Now I tell the jokes in my head. I wish there was a way to just stop them from coming to mind. But, hey, at least I found my filter. Right? It’s extra mentholated (Wow. Who knew “mentholated” was even a word?). The following recently came up over a dinner conversation, and I felt it important to get out there. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. I kept mine, because I’m no innocent in these matters.

I went to a friend’s wedding. It was a beautiful day in [Springville]. The sun was out, and the birds were chirping. One may describe the nuptial scene as idyllic. It truly was. Little girls with white dresses and flowers strewn through their hair skipped merrily through the sidewalks. Two young lovers held hands as they looked at each other in anticipation for the days events. My heart warmed that I had been invited to witness this event.

The brother of the groom, [Flavius Maximus], mentioned his cousins were a little weird. Not Morlock weird, but off. They were sheltered from the world, living in their basement and avoiding the onset of the 21st century. They didn’t even have zippers. Not for some religious reason, but because they were afraid of personal injury caused without careful motor control.

I watched out for these people. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the backwoods family. As they entered, the light dimmed around them. I knew immediately who they were. They fit [Flavius Maximus'] description of them to a “y.” One of the 13 children stood out in particular. He was different from the others. He walked the sidewalks by himself. His hands darting back and forth non-nonsensically about his person. He did not use words while talking to himself, but just made beeping noises and whirs. He was loud and inconsiderate of those around him. A complete nutjob. How dare he ruin this scene for the happy couple? What kind of parents would let a child get this out of control.

[Flavius Maxiums] came up to me. I immediately said, “You are right! Your cousins are WHACK! Especially that one kid.”

“Which one?” he asked.

“The one who is conducting the orchestra only he can hear.” Then I did a brief and subtle intimidation.

“The 11 year-old?”

“Yes.”

“Todd. He’s deaf. He’s the only one that I actually like.”

Oh that foot tastes delicious! Was that strawberry flavored soap? No. I don’t think so. [Flavius Maximus] was very kind about the whole ordeal. I apologized profusely, and mentioned a couple times about how stupid I felt. We are still friends, even though he stopped talking to me about a year ago, I’m sure he thought it was funny too. Right? Oh dear.