Dinner Guest #21 - Cousin Lisa

“My cousin Lisa, you know, Marcella’s daughter, will be in town this weekend.  What do you think about having her over for Sunday dinner?”

That’s all Ryan said.

He asked nicely.

He didn’t demand.

And yet inside, I bristled.

“Relatives.  YUCK.”  I thought.

I’ve been married long enough to know that a smart wife keeps these thoughts to herself.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

I have an inexplicable aversion to relatives.  I’m not sure how I acquired this shameful, snobby dislike.  I don’t mind gatherings with parents and siblings, but when the blood association thins out to cousins, great-uncles, and half-brothers of second cousins twice removed, I quickly lose interest.

It just seems like some relatives are no more than quirky strangers you would normally never allow into your home.  These aren’t people you had a choice in being your friend.  It's a forced, uncomfortably close association.

Then, I married a man who LOVES relatives.  Ryan will drive long distances to family reunions held in remote small towns.  He takes time off work to attend the funeral for great-aunt so and so.  A few years ago, Ryan answered a 3:00 am phone call from a relative stuck in jail and bailed him out.  He doesn’t focus on the quirks, poor social skills, and boring conversations that make me cut the visits short.  It’s been an adjustment, but I’ve learned to admire this relative-lovin’ quality in my husband and keep my prejudices quiet.

Cousin Lisa came to dinner this Sunday.

Compared to previous Sunday dinners with several adults and children, one dinner guest has now become a piece of cake.  I served grilled chicken kebabs, sweet potato casserole, Brazilian pao de queijo rolls, fresh berries, and veggies and dip.  On the down side, I left an additional side dish in the fridge for the entire meal.  Tomorrow night, our family will enjoy the large bowl of roasted beets meant for today.

During dinner, Ryan and Lisa exchanged memories from their childhoods in Las Vegas.  They talked about a classic, light blue Volkswagon Bug that belonged to Lisa’s father.  Ryan recalled a table-top game called “Shoot the Moon” he played when he visited her home as a child.  After the meal, my in-laws Dono and Margaret stopped by to see Lisa.  They love relatives too--even more than Ryan.  Dono and Lisa's father Dwayne, long deceased, are brothers.

In between the I- remember- when’s, Rock (3) interjected totally irrelevant, but cute comments like,

“Do you know what we have?  A new hair brush!”

This Sunday dinner, my assumptions on relatives were proved wrong.  Lisa wasn ‘t weird.  She was very normal, kind and polite.  She asked my children questions, brought chocolate chip cookies, and rinsed all the dishes.  If she lived closer, I would love to have her back to meet her two daughters.

Hopefully our children will inherit Ryan’s gentler view of relatives.  After my encounter with Lisa, I’m considering taking on a softer mantra.  Something like:

Relatives are like fudge – mostly sweet with a few nuts.