My family is full of characters. This fact is nothing new to me, but Thanksgiving break worked to make sure I never forget this reality.
My time off started with an 18th birthday party for my sister. With her officially crossing the line into adulthood, my entire extended family found their way over to our house for cake and booze.
Although one would think this occasion called for the focus to be on my sister, my uncle had news he felt was much more important: He got an iPhone! Determined to prove to the youth of the family just how hip he was, he brought it over to my cousin and I, waving it in our faces and demonstrating all of the nifty tricks the little computer could do. His main point: IT HAD A YOUTUBE BUTTON! Based on his enthusiasm, it seemed he thought this news could only be trumped by a second coming of Christ—and he would know. He’s a pastor.
He passed it off to my cousin and I, encouraging us to take it for a spin. As he wandered into the kitchen to find more vodka, we gave in and pressed the oh-so-exciting YouTube button. With a touch of the icon, my uncle’s most recent search popped up on the screen: women dancing in their underwear. Trying to hide both our shock and amusement, it took the two of us a grand total of half a second to return the phone to its home screen and dump it on his vacated seat.
The remainder of the night was characterized by him getting completely sloshed, sharing a few too many awkward stories and missing my cheek when he went to kiss me goodbye and instead landing on my ear. It was hilarious, and all too typical.
A few days after this occurrence, nine members of the O’Reilly clan headed up to the Wisconsin Peninsula for what my mother had decided was to be a new family tradition: stuff the entire family in a cabin near the bay with little more than food and alcohol. My family—especially myself, sister and cousins—have always been close, but five days in Door County was going to be especially dense bonding time.
It was these cousins that reminded me I underestimate the maturity levels of the men in my life. Now, please do not think I am by any means suggesting my guy friends are mature; they know how to be, but that doesn’t mean they are. Still, when I spent Thanksgiving up north with two male, hormone-riddled teenagers, let’s just say I grew to appreciate whatever maturity level my guy friends feel it necessary to meet.
Said cousins, Colin and Ethan, are both at an age where sex is just foreign and just familiar enough to be absolutely hilarious. Ergo, whenever they felt it necessary—which was more often than not—the two would add “gasm” to the ends of different words.
There were the obvious holiday cornerstones—“I can’t wait to turkeygasm,” “This is the most intense foodgasm I’ve ever had,” and “Thank you God for the crangasm I’m about to receive.” Sometimes the word would even stand on its own. “I’m gasming all over the place” was a popular expression since it alluded to jizz, and apparently nothing is funnier than jizz.
This new hobby had come from a recent viewing of “When Harry Met Sally,” after which Ethan proclaimed, “Now I know how to fake an orgasm!” If it wouldn’t make me terribly nauseous, I would love to hear how he plans to pull this off.
The rest of my time with the cousins was characterized by the typical slew of “Storage Wars” marathons, pizza at midnight and a general refusal to wear pants (on their parts, not mine). Still, it’s stories like the ones above that make me love my eccentric family. Plus, if they weren’t bizarre, this kook would be super out of place.
Did your family prove themselves to be equally outrageous this Thanksgiving? Share your stories with Jacqueline at jgoreilly@wisc.edu.
