I just spent the weekend in Buffalo with my family of origin, most of whom I had not seen in nearly five years. The occasion: one of my youngest cousins got married. Funniest moment of the night: one of his drunk-drunk-drunk friends dragged me onto the dance floor, started playfully grinding his ass against me, and then said, “Woah! Don’t get dirty with me. There’s family here!” I was all, “Um, I am family. That’s my baby cousin getting married.”
I must be getting old because I loved the dancing boys. Even a few years ago, nothing could have filled me with more horror than the thought of being trapped at a prom-like event with a drunk hockey team, but there they were, and there I was, sipping my gin-and-tonic from a safe distance, admiring their hip isolations. Those boys can dance! They all had perfect hip isolations. They knew all the cheesy music by heart, and would break into these chorus line routines where they all did the exact same moves on cue. They curtseid to each other! They bickered about their suits and what was really in fashion and how much one of them spent on his jacket. They were the gayest thing I’ve ever seen and I just adored them. I wish I could dance like that.
It was both awesome and disconcerting to be in a roomful of people who all look like me. The wedding was a Catholic mass. When we left the church, my sister and I both thanked my mom for not raising us Catholic. We were also both feeling pretty grateful that she raised us in Boston and not Western New York, but also grateful that she shanghied us all into coming to the wedding and reconnecting with family there. They really are wonderful, and I’d forgotten how much I love spending time with them. I had not forgotten how little I love Western New York. So it goes.
The real point of this post, though, as the title suggests, is to address the question of evil. It goes something like this:
Chapter 1:
Rio: May I have another donut?
Me: No. You’ve had five.
Rio: You are EVIL, Mama!
Chapter 2:
Rio: May I ride the luggage rack back up the elevator and then down again?
Nana (that would be my mom): No, once is enough.
Rio: You are EVIL, Nana!
Chapter 3:
My sister buys Rio a Very Nice Hello Kitty Hat and Mitten set
Nana: You really know how to spoil her!
Rio: Yeah! You taught her, Nana. Just like you taught my mama to be EVIL!
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