As I'm sure you all don't know*, July 1st is Canada Day, technically known as Dominion Day. The day celebrates the day we Canadians gloriously won our independence from Britain by waiting around until 1867 when they gave it to us (you guys couldn't hold on for another ninety years?). We Canadians celebrate our independence day in a manner very similar to the American way: with barbecues, alcohol, and fireworks.
My parents throw a big bash every July 1st at our cottage in Bayfield, Ontario. And when I say "big bash," I mean
big. My mum's mum's side of the family, the Kirbys, uses our July 1st party as their yearly family reunion. Kirbys come from far and wide to attend, some from places as close as Toronto, and others from places as far as St. John's, Newfoundland and Vancouver, British Columbia.
That's really far. What makes this party so interesting is the fact that the Kirby women are all nuts. And when I say "nuts," I mean the exact same kind of nuts. Really, they are all slightly different versions of the same warm, loving, neurotic, ADHD-suffering control freaks. Don't believe me? Just look at them:
Margie, Regina, Lucy, Teresa (my grandma), Carol
So, as you can probably surmise, hilarity always ensues when these five are together. The best part is trying to tell them apart. I find the best way is to figure out which guy is their husband, as they all married remarkably different people. Here's the rundown:
MargieMargie married Jimmy, an Irish guy who is shorter than me (I'm 4' 11") and likes to spend his time drinking and being a giant neo-con. They have three kids: Aine (on-ya), Brefni, and Lorkin (seriously), and a whole mess of grandkids, one of whom informed me that she refers to Grandma and her sisters as "the five Margies," which we have all now adopted.
ReginaRegina married Walter, who is one of my favorite people ever. He's sort of a quiet, bookish type who likes to sit in the corner and laugh at the ridiculousness around him. They have one son, John, who is also a quiet, hilarious type. No grandkids (yet?).
LucyLucy married Donald, whom I never met, as he's very dead, so I can't really comment on him. Before he died, however, he did manage to help Lucy create three kids: Kelly, Karla, and Kevin (yep). I was worried the letter theme was going to continue on to the next generation, as she also has three grandkids named Connor, Cooper, and Callum. Luckily, however, Finn, Peyton, and Parker came along, so they were saved.
Teresa (Grandma)Grandma married my crazy grandpa, and then divorced his doctor ass when she caught him having an affair with his med student. They have three kids: Dawn, Nonie (my mum, whose real name is Finola, but nobody has ever called her that ever), and Keith. Of the three, my mum's the only one who got married and had kids, so it's just my sister and me. I should note that I am the oldest of all the Kirby grandchildren (which makes sense, as Grandma is the oldest of her sisters).
CarolCarol married John, who is former teacher and staunch liberal. He likes to argue with Jimmy a lot. They have two kids: Jill-Marie and Colleen. Jill-Marie isn't married, but Colleen married Dave, who runs as the Marxist-Lenninist candidate for parliament in his riding every election year. He gets a lot more votes than most of the other Marxist-Lenninists in Canada, but he never wins, as most of the socialists around here feel like the two liberal parties that actually have seats in parliament are good enough. Colleen and Dave have two little kids, whom they brought to the G20 protests in Toronto. Luckily, they were having lunch at a pub when the violence erupted.
So, this big party happens every year and everybody comes and it's always insane and there's always 400 people sleeping in tents and campers and cars scattered around the tiny cottage. This year, however, it was extra exciting because, as you probably don't know, July 1st is also my crazy grandpa's birthday, so he decided to come visit and make the party his birthday party. That's right, my grandpa crashed his ex-wife's family reunion and took it over. I told you he was crazy.
Luckily for everyone, grandma (finally) stopped being mad at grandpa for being a jerkface four years ago when his wife (aka his former med student with whom he cheated on Grandma) died. I'm not sure exactly why Bubba's** death calmed her down so much, but we're all pretty happy it did because now the two of them can be in the same room, which is convenient. No, most of the craziness emerged Grandpa likes to get into shouting matches with about politics with anyone who's handy (often Jimmy). Of course, I also got into a shouting match with Uncle Jimmy when he said that the peaceful protesters at the G20 were just as bad as the violent ones, were aiding and abetting, and should be "arrested, thrown in the sewer, have their own shit piled on top of them, and lit on fire." As you can imagine, that went over well.
But, hey. Everybody's family is nuts, right?
*Not through any fault of your own, of course. People who are educated in the United States are deliberately left out of the loop as to what's going on everywhere else. It's part of the Illuminati's secret evil plan or something.
**My family's version of Yiddish.
Oops.
This is probably the lamest thing I do
zzzzzzz...
