#weirduncle

I guess I would like to take a second and talk about family gatherings:

I took the time this year to raise 30 Cornish Game Hens for my family gathering on Thanksgiving this year. Cornish Game Hens are basically mini chickens. You raise them for 8-10 weeks (or until they are the size you desire), then you process them. The 8 weeks that they are alive, all they do is eat, poop, and sleep. They stink, they’re loud, and they are NOT a desirable thing to be raising in your basement.

Anyway, I took the time this year to raise a single chicken for each and every person that was going to be coming to Thanksgiving Dinner this year, then some.

To start the story, I must get anyone up to speed with the crazy, weird uncle that every single family has (P.S. if your family doesn’t have a weird uncle, you are probably it). ANYWAY, the weird uncle comes to every family gathering that we have just for the food.

How is he weird you ask? WELL. LET. ME. TELL. YOU:

-His daughter, my cousin, is emancipated from him.

-He doesn’t work, then continues to be jealous of my boyfriend and I FOR WORKING OUR ASSES OFF to have a house, and small hobby farm.

He definitely has a weird comb over going on

He likes to think that his shit don’t stink.

Waste of space, essentially.

Ok, OK, back to the story, now. I haven’t had any sort of relationship, or communication with this guy for years. He complains to my grandmother that I don’t talk to him. HELLO. PHONES WORK BOTH WAYS YOU DING DONG.

My parents have never ever made my sister or I talk to people, or hug people that we don’t want to. Family included. So, naturally, I don’t talk to, or hug this guy.

So, family and friends come to Thanksgiving dinner, and we make our announcement to 20 people that we are having Cornish Game Hens this year instead of turkey. Everyone ate, took home leftovers, had a great time.

Everyone thanked the boyfriend and I for raising and processing dinner.

Let me repeat:

Everyone thanked the boyfriend and I for raising and processing dinner.

Except for....

...You got it, weird uncle.