Regor

Today I would like to talk about penguins and Santa Clause.

Just kidding, but now that I’ve got your attention, I would like to make you all go, “aww.” So here is your aww moment of the day.

Today I was going to tell the story I mentioned yesterday. However, it was brought to my attention that I may want to sit on this story for a little while since the situation just happened, and the post may push this particular person into contacting me again, which I would prefer they not do. It’s not that I have anything against the person, they just got a little creepy. I promise that it’s not a sad story as much as an ironic, funny one. It probably shouldn't be, but it’s caused a lot of lols. For now I’m going to give it some time until I know the storm is definitely over for this particular person, too, and then I shall post it.

I would never leave you guys without a story, though, so I shall tell you stories about my family. I’ve mentioned before that we do not have a large immediate family. The little family we do have outside of that are distant relatives and scattered throughout the country. The ones that are here are older and don’t get out much, but that’s okay, because they still create really awesome stories and I love them so much for that and for other reasons.

Two years ago there was a family reunion held not far from our home. Included were mostly relatives from out of state. Within these relatives was my uncle, who technically is not my uncle, Roger. Do you see what I mean about our family being distantly and oddly related. It gets real dicey real easily?

Roger is a bit of a comedian. It’s sad that he didn’t pursue a career as one, because he could have definitely succeeded, but the thing is, he doesn’t even try. Things just come out of his mouth that leave us rolling on the floor and him not realizing he even said anything funny. He has two daughters and I’m hoping they appreciate him, because I sure do. I wish he lived closer, but that’s not the point.

At this reunion was also my grandfather’s brother, Clyde. At least I think it was Clyde. It may have been his brother, Charlie, but for all intents and purposes, it was Clyde. They all look alike anyway. I love you Uncle Clyde and Uncle Charlie. I'm sorry you look like twins.

The reunion was in full swing when, just within earshot, Uncle Clyde walks up to Roger and randomly says to him, “your name is spelled the same way backwards as it is forward.” Not missing a beat and with a straight face, Roger busts out with, “So now I’m Regor.” He said this as a statement, not a question or a joke. Uncle Clyde didn’t get it and walked away. Roger never laughed. But here’s the thing.

Roger was wearing a name tag.

Yep, a name tag with his name clearly written across it.

And just for the record, we now refer to him as Regor and have ever since. We just haven't told him that yet.

Since we so adore Roger and barely get to see him, we made plans to go out to dinner with him, his wife and his two girls after the reunion. Then in pops his brother, Rawn. I have several stories about Rawn that I will tell in due time, but the basic story is that Rawn is one hundred kinds of awesome in a million different ways. He’s just a super great guy and everyone adores him, and he and Roger are two peas in a pod.

Rawn once saved me from an ill fated vacation, a story I am also currently working on to post, so when he also wanted to go out to dinner, we were gleeful. There’s no words to express just how much I adore Rawn. The only problem is that Rawn and Roger together equals a whole lot of immature, hysterical things happening.

We headed out to a place inside of our mall to eat. We ordered and were waiting for our food when Roger and Rawn decide to have a spit-ball fight across the table. My mom and I couldn’t stop laughing. Tammy, Roger’s wife, rolled her eyes but otherwise seemed unfazed, like this was normal. But then there were Roger and Tammy’s two daughters. Their pre-teen daughter looked at me and said, “ugh, can we go do something else? I don’t want to be around them.” Then she rolled her eyes in the very way that adults do when they want to say, “kids,” in an annoyed, huffed out voice.

Roger, I believe you were just owned by a nine year old.

We trolled the mall, and when we came back, I’m not sure if I’m happy or sad to announce this, but they were done throwing spit balls. And from what I could gather, the waitresses found it hilarious that they did so. When they had to clean it up, they probably changed their minds.

Oh, and did I mention these men were in their 50s and 60s? Because if I didn’t, now would be the time to do so.

The next story I’m going to tell is going to sound a little insensitive, but I promise you this was a running family joke, and something we brought up when we wanted to think about our dearly departed. In the way that this should be one of the worst memories we have, it ended up being one of the best. We laugh and smile every time we think of this. Maybe that’s wrong, but we do.

I was twelve when my great grandfather died, but somehow I still remember this. My great grandmother, Gertrude’s, mind was going at the time, so she wasn’t totally sure what was going on during the funeral services. When it was all said and done, we packed her in the van to take her back to the home she was in. Upon returning she looked directly at us and said, “Well, didn’t we have a nice day with those old people?”

She was in her 90’s.

I don’t think this needs explaining any further, but we did agree with her, that yes, we did have a lovely day wit those old people. This is one of the better memories I have of her, even though that might sound morbid. For some reason, she never liked me all that much, and all these years later I still wonder why. It may have something to do with the fact that she thought I was a boy, and when I would go and help her with something, she told everyone that the Boy Scouts came to help her out. It wasn’t funny then, but it sure is now.

My aunt also named one of her geese Gertrude because she said it reminded her of great-grandma. I would say that this is absolutely ridiculous and there is no way a goose could remind her of her grandmother, but I named my fish Brendon because he reminded me of someone, so I have no room to talk. None whatsoever.

Last, but absolutely not least, I would like to thank the amazing Zoe for her comment. What you said means the world to me, and I'm appreciate to the feedback that the pictures represent me well. That makes me feel all jolly inside. (Sticking with the Santa theme.) Oh my goodness, I think that our mother's not only have something in common, but are possibly related. My mom is the same way with things! She figured out how to text today, but after six months, she still can't figure out how to use a tabbed browser, or email from her computer correctly. Ah, parents.