Which One is More Ridiculous
Social Grace-less Gladys is right in my face.
I am glad to be wearing a mask because she usually spits in my mouth
As she talks,
She has never given a bit of distance.
I am sure social distancing is something she could never do.
Scratch my ass Harley is over there.
I see his hands all over his posterior, as usual.
His wife is glaring at him but he has no idea why.
He is as obtuse as Social-Grace-Less-Gladys, his daughter.
My joy is complete. I-Can-One-Up-Everyone-Elaine is here.
“Did you get my Christmas letter?”
“No,” I lie. Not wanting to again think of the perfect children
the perfect husband, the perfect life she depicts every year.
Her comes Grandma McDillon. She leans in and says
“I can’t decide which one is more ridiculous than the others.”
“Maybe Elaine?” I say.
She punches my arm and goes bounding off with a laugh.
She is the only reason I come to these reunions.
She is now playing a silly song on the piano, singing off key
And eleven grandchildren are singing with her.
I run toward them, ready to give it a go.
Elaine is right behind me waving an extra Christmas letter.
I run into Harley’s scratching hand and nearly barf.
Gladys beats me to the piano, so I stop.
She surely spits when she sings.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
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