I tried to explain that staff accountants at my Big Four accounting firm had more in common with slaves or prostitutes than Donald Trump, but my protests were regarded as feeble attempts to keep the hidden treasure for myself. After listening to a lengthy scheme that sounded at best subject to future litigation by the tax authorities, and at worst likely to result in prison and the permanent removal of my designation, I told Uncle Larry that I was quite conservative with my nonexistent investments and wouldn't be able to participate. He looked at me reproachfully. "So you don't want to take my advice," he sulked. "Is it because I'm a FedEx driver?" Well, it certainly didn't help.
My mother is the ultimate delicacy in that side of the family's nut collection. It's hard to explain her brand of lunacy to strangers, other than to say she simply has no grasp of societal norms. She has a code of behaviour that she takes very seriously; it just doesn't line up with everyone else's. She will buy me a birthday cake...but it's her favourite flavour (which I hate). When my father suggested I take home the leftover pieces, my mother reacted as if he had offered to turn over the keys to their car. "Don't be ridiculous!" she snapped. "They can't have it! It's mine." Being around her for any length of time is like stumbling into a Seinfeld episode, but without the laugh track.
Then there's me. At a memorable dinner with Jay's family, his step-mother was in her usual nasty mood that no one ever confronted. Unfortunately for her I had just written a university final I was pretty sure I'd failed, and my period had made an unexpected and embarrassing appearance right before dinner. Since I had been biting my tongue for years around Evil Step-Mother out of respect for Jay, she had no idea just how nasty my own mood could get.
When Evil Step-Mother insinuated while passing the dinner rolls that Jay and I had had sex in her bed, because what else could you expect from a slut like me, my infamous temper finally rose to the occasion. Slamming my utensils down a la Teresa Guidice, I shoved the table back and lunged to my feet as the rest of the family gasped. "That is IT!" I roared at Evil Step-Mother, shaking my finger in her astonished face. "You are a lying bitch and I do not have to take another second of your SHIT!" I turned on Jay, who sat frozen beside me, fork still in his hand. "Get up!" I yelled, channelling Kate Gosselin. "You're taking me home. NOW!"
I'm told I looked like this, but with less jewelry
Miraculously Jay married me anyway. Evil Step-Mother has been a perfect angel to me ever since the incident (although she did give me used golf balls for Christmas last year), and other nuts have taken my place in the family collection over the years. What can I say? I'm mostly sweet.