Grandma’s Featherbed

My people are not pioneers.  Of any kind.  We came west after all the work was done.  My people are not big family people, either.  No massive amounts of brothers and sisters, barely any cousins, we’re a dying breed.  And no farmers.  Because farm people have history, and history is something my family doesn’t have.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my family.  I’m not getting down on it because of our lackluster past.  But I do want to be the one that changes it.  I want to make history!  I want to start a Cousins Reunion.

A Cousins Reunion is just for kids.  NO GROWNUPS!  Unless, you have cousins.  In which case, you’re invited.  Aunties and Uncles are not welcome, neither are Grandma and Grandpa.  If they were, it would be a Family Reunion!  It’s too late for me and my cousins, but not for our kids.  My sister has four and my brother just had a third.  With my three that gives us a respectable amount, and if we start now maybe they will carry the Cousins Reunion forward and so will their kids and their kids and etc., etc.

There is one thing my family has.  Camping.  And singing.  So I guess that makes two, but that’s what we have.  Camping and singing.  There are songs that if we don’t teach them to our kids in a memorable setting, will be lost forever.  “After supper we’d sit around the fire, the old folks’d spit n’ chew…”  Our kids will never develop our sick sense of humor if we don’t teach them songs like “Dentyne”, “Great Big Gobs”, “A Barefoot Boy Went Walking”, “Diarrhea”, “The Princess Pat”, “On Top Of Spaghetti”, “Who Stole the Cookie?” and other camp favorites.

I guess it’s time I learned to play the guitar.  This reunion of ours is happening in two years, think I’ll get it enough by then?


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