Snippets – This is all about breaking up the monotony of ones day. A chance to fume, vent or laugh. Have a free one on me as I post about experiences with people of my past and present.
Time to give the cuz over here a little rest and go back, waaaaay back to the eighties, where all one really needed to be happy in life was to have their family surrounding them with love and security.
They sho’ was good times!
From the massive sword wielding biceps of Conan the Barbarian to Ravishing Rick Rude of WWF fame with his lewd hip gyrations as he slithered into the ring. And Madonna whom I still love today, but she was way more awesome then with her spunky hair and bad girl ways.
So cool! The eighties never to be forgotten.
Not only for the above mentions, but also because they were accompanied by a tribe of boy cousins who put the yellow in cheese and came up with their own ripe blend.
Boys are so clueless at the best of times aren’t they?
All I ever wanted to do was make cool outfits out of plastic bags and pretend I was a fashion designer. I guess the temptation to taunt me was just too high with whatever scheming their young minds could think of.
There were the times the little punks had something big to show me only to reveal a gigantic cockroach in their hands to send me squealing off into the distance.
Or letting rip with the deadliest of farts, the silent but deadly kind as I lay peacefully around reading a book. Only for one to rush in and say “What is that delicious smell?” waiting ever so quietly as I took a whiff before keeling over with laughter.
Sometimes I’d hear their disturbing giggles coming from the outside shed and just knew they were up to no good. They’d encourage me to come watch cause it was “Cool aye?” confusing them by my lack of enthusiasm for it. Catching flies to put in a spider webs so they could watch the hairy black spider kill the poor defenceless fly was not what one would call fun.
In fact one could argue it would lead to psychopathic tendencies.
Boys will be boys however as my grandmother often repeated while I glared on when they got away with blatant murder!
Then there was the fact that I was a girl, something beyond their scope entirely.
For instance having a period and wanting to choke them for merely existing if they even looked at me wrong. Don’t even get me started on what happened when bumps began to form on my chest!
Alas I still maintained the love for them despite the fact I have been their wrestling test dummy and close-lined more times than Ravishing Rick Rude ever endured in his career.
Maybe it’s my brain being all fuzzed over from the amount of times I’ve been tackled without ever having played a game of rugby in my life.
Had I been a boy I would’ve been an All Black and left them for dust!
Boy cousins, gotta love em but I have to admit it’s easier loving them more now that we’re grown up!
What do you think readers? Anyone wanna share their stories on boy cousins?