Everyone in my family talks at the same time.
You know the part where I never shut up? I mean, you kind of don't, because you have never really talked to me, but you know the part where I post every day and I post a lot of words? That is because I spent my whole life spewing out a constant stream of words hoping that 8% of them would get caught.
Last night I tried to tell Uncle Jim's son the story of the white cat.
"…and then Jim said he kept dreaming of a white cat–"
"Do you guys want a piece of cake!?!"
"No. I'm trying to tell the story of the white cat. …And then Jim said he kept dreaming of a white c–"
"Grab the baby! He's gonna pour pomegranate juice on the dog!"
"And then Jim said he kept dreaming of–"
"June! When did you get here?!"
Honestly. That is how every conversation goes. My whole life. I have never once told a story from start to finish while somebody gave me their undivided attention. I would like to lace everyone's coffee with Ritalin. Is Ritalin what you give people for ADD? What do you give people for Interrupt-y Disorder? For Pay No Attention to the Part Where I AM ALREADY TALKING Disorder?
Also, if you read this stupid blog with some regularity, or even if you are kind of stopped up, you may know that I am a tad sensitive to the smells. Like, I cannot even walk past Bath & Body Works in the mall without my throat closing up. Marvin thinks I am making this up but I am not, and I come by it naturally, as my grandmother was the same way. And yes, we all kind of thought she was a drama queen, too, and now it turns out she wasn't. Well, she totally was, but NOT ABOUT THIS.
Anyway, my mother has all kinds of Bath & Body Works soaps and lotions and candles and what pinhole for a throat, over here? The worst one was some sort of anaphylactic-scented candle, over there, in the kitchen, by the coffee pot, of all places, and finally I said, "Could we put this in a cupboard while I'm here?" and I saw everyone roll their eyes, like look at old hypochondriac June, over there, with her phony hives and her made-up wheezing.
So who thinks he is a laugh riot, getting that candle out and placing it behind me everywhere I go? Is it Marvin? Just now I was peacefully writing this and Marvin said, "How's your throat?" and I said, "Still scratchy" and he giggled and THAT CANDLE WAS RIGHT HERE ON THE DESK, hovering at my shoulder like we were posing in an Olan Mills photo together.
And then he made his move. Okay, am kidding about that part. I am just saying. I think I should be sainted, with all I put up with. They should make little statues of me for your dashboard, except for the part where the hair would interfere with your view of the road.
I did get to see my Aunt Sue yesterday and she looks surprisingly well. When she feels more up to it, I am going to print out all of my Uncle Jim posts along with all of your comments about him. A lot of other family members have read what you wrote and they just loved it. My Aunt Kathy sat here last night and read some of the comments out loud.
Of course, everyone interrupted her.