Cousins By The Dozens

The Man has many cousins. There are so many that once upon a time, one of his cousins hosted an annual party called Cousins By The Dozens, and I swear, hundreds of cousins showed up at his farm for this party each year.

The Man also makes many claims about having ancestors and cousins everywhere. For example, one of Oscar Wilde's lovers may have been an ancestor. I've learned to hold my face still as I mentally roll my eyes when he makes these claims now. But once in a while, a real cousin pops up. Like his cousin in Dubai, with whom he had dinner when he passed through Dubai en route home for Christmas and to whom I send five books last month. Or Jill, who I've never heard of but mysteriously showed up one day in Toronto. She and her husband organized the land reform march in India and that's how I ended up going to India.

So now, our Australian cousin (okay, she and her sister are The Man's cousins, but I consider them my cousins too because I'm like that) told The Man Barack Obama is a cousin! As if The Man needed more encouragement to aggrandize his kinship circuitry. Oh they're very distant cousin. They share a common ancestor somewhere way back.

A part of me is rolling my eyes. But there may also be some truth to this one. Australian Cousin's mother was a professional genealogist and wrote books on the subject. She charted her family tree. I don't think she would have gotten it wrong, though you never know.

Does my side of the family have cousins? Except for the current generation of young cousins, I only know of assholes, wife beaters, and adulterers. But The Boy's generation, there are lots of cousins. I like to think I have influence on the kind of adults these kids grow up to be. In fact, I should start planning cousins by the dozens parties for each side of the family so they'd have a place to reunite with their clan once they start their own families, and a hub of support to go through life with. A farm, my kingdom for a farm!