My Dad was the youngest boy in a family of 7 kids. He had two sisters younger. Most of the men in the family served in WWII. And when they returned had their own baby boom. There were 8 kids born within a three year period of time. Seven girls and one boy who was the youngest. I am here to declare that we gave that little boy just a huge ration of shit. All of us were pretty tight. We had huge fun whenever we would get together.
The Grand-Bastardette related this story to The Bastard Jr. yesterday.
The scenerio is a family reunion on a farm in West Texas. All the kids are around 7-10 years old. After we stuff ourselves on a good homecooked meal the little bastardettes and one lone bastard are sent outside to play. We torment the little bastard for a while, then send him back crying into the house. Off we all go to play in whatever way we feel at the time. Somewhere along the way the older bastardettes decide they didn't want to play with two of the youngest…..me and another cousin. We were younger siblings of two of the group and they didn't want us around. We all ended up in the barn. The four are having a great time and telling me and the youngest bastardette to go away. So we promptly locked their sorry asses in the grainery and off we go, to play alone. At some point we decide to see if they have changed their mind and want to play with us. We made a fatal mistake and unlocked the door. To say that they whipped the shit out of us would be a gross understatement.
All the adults hear the commotion outside…Mom and Dad venture outside to see what's going on. They hear what the fight is all about and decide we are getting what we deserve – back in the house they go. The fight continues. The Grand-Bastardette says later to Grandpa-Bastard, "Do you think you need to go outside and stop that fight?" "Oh no" he replies. "There is no way I'm going to step in the middle of all those girls." The fight ended on its own and we ended up all happy with each other. That may not be the way it ended, but is the way I prefer to remember it.
Yesterday my Sister (the traitorous bastardette) brought our mom to my house and was about to make her escape. While digging for her keys, noticed that she had a voice mail. It seems one of our cousins is ill.
Off we speed to Huguley Hospital. There is Jan, the Daredevil Bastardette, lying in the ICU bed unconscious. She is on a ventilator, tubes everywhere. She had a perforated ulcer and all that stomach stuff ran into her abdominal cavity creating massive infection. Her blood pressure and pulse sometimes are so high it is a miracle she is still alive. She does not respond so touch or sound. She just lays there so tiny so defenseless.
Jan – wake up!!! Let's go torment the cousins…………………