The People Under the Stairs

Everyone has relatives that they wish they could forget. I seem to have an obscene number of them. Particularly ALL of my first cousins on BOTH sides of the family. They run the gamut from ignorant to broke to ghetto to ...well you get the picture. I find myself stalking my caller ID in fear that they will call and want to come over. The phone rings... I debate even looking... OH MY GOD it's them!! Do I answer? No--I don't want to deal with them today. But wait! if I don't answer they might just stop by. OH WHY ME?? WHY ME??

I answer the phone--they are an inevitable evil. They want to come by this weekend. I have no choice but to say yes since I put them off for the last 2 weekends. Then comes the hard part--I have to tell my husband that they are coming. He looks at me with disdain, gives a heavy sigh and says okay fine... I'll be hiding in the bedroom.

Now I love my cousins. They are my family. We grew up together and they have been there to help me every time I have moved. Now that might not seem like much, but I have moved 15 times in the past 14 years. Granted I always pay them, but I was starting to get on my own nerves with all of the moving.

But they are an interesting group...

Cousin A
Blames everyone in the family for his inability to function in the world. i.e.: keep a job, get off probation--you know, standard stuff. But his girlfriend is great. She is smart and responsible and they have two great kids.

Cousin B
Had been the only one on this side of the family without kids. Recently hooked up with a baby making machine 10 years younger than him who can barely speak standard english--I won't even get into the writing like a 6 year old. This girl is 20 years old with three kids by three different guys! The latest kid is my cousins child (so we've heard) and she is a beautiful girl. I loved the name they picked for her (which will not be disclosed to keep their anonymity) at least until I saw how they spelled it. let's just say it's the equivalent of spelling Nicole like this NMIKHOL. That poor child will never get a job that doesn't involve a pole or a spatula. As for her mother, I cannot stand this girl! She comes to my house always wearing clothes that are clearly for a person 50 pounds lighter than her with her hair looking like the back of a sheep's ass. I know you just had a baby but give me a freaking break. Just hearing her talk makes my skin crawl. I refuse to utter her name so I have grown accustomed to referring to her as "that girl".

Cousin C
Is a beautiful girl who is really sweet, but life has been hard on her. She cares nothing about her appearance and is content to walk around wearing grease stained work uniforms - even on her days off. Cousins A and B are her brothers. Their parents both died in 1999 in separate incidents - one in February and the other in October. She is truly lost without her mother. My mother, sister and I have done our best to try to steer her in the right direction but trying to have a conversation with her is like trying to reason with a 3 year old. Both my mother and I have taken her in on separate occasions to give her a chance to get herself together, but it's a lost cause. She has a beautiful 9 year old daughter who has lived with her father for the past year as Cousin A's career choice is the drive through cashier for a fast food restaurant and she cannot afford to take care of the child. Now one might think that had she asked the father for child support or perhaps applied for section 8 so that she would have her own place instead of sleeping on Cousin B's couch, that she might have been able to keep her child with her-- but that's too much like right. She has a boyfriend who is a pretty nice guy--once you get past the weed smoking, cursing, and bench warrants. But he is indeed a BOY. 8 years younger then her, barely out of high school, still living with his mom with not a care in the world--except borrowing money from her to buy weed.

My sister, who has the great benefit of NOT LIVING IN THE COUNTRY has lovingly dubbed the three The People Under the Stairs The thing that cracks me up about them is their need to catch me alone so that they can complain about one another- like their own shit doesn't stink! I will say this about them, I am the black sheep between my sister and I, but they make me look GOOD.

So the weekend comes and now I have to figure out what I am going to feed them. Instead of my family of three, I now have to whip up a meal (and provide beer) for 12 people. And there had better be leftovers, because I know the only reason they are coming to my house is because they don't have any food at home and they really want to watch cable! So I do my whole Martha Stewart bit, provide a great meal a few drinks and Tupperware for them to take the leftovers home. My husband hides in the bedroom until all the cooking is done and then comes down to play the sociable host with them while slipping me dirty looks.

It's a trying day. They have gotten on my last nerve with all of the ghetto talk and the running in and out of the house to smoke cigarettes. Not to mention the arguing back and forth over stuff like who's a better rapper 50 Cent or Tupac (and other vital social issues). Cousin C proceeds to cornrow her daughter's hair on my beige couch. I bring her a towel and she looks offended. I tell her the couch is damn near white and I would like for it to stay that way so either use the towel or go in the basement. The night is long and I have a raging headache. So I send them on their merry way with dinner for tomorrow night, a few leftover beers (lest they should remember there were some left and try to come back for them) and a gift card for the grocery store - which buys me at least 2 weeks before they try to come back.

I love my relatives--really I do, but I am not trying to sleep in the bed that they made!