I don't want to worry you sick, but I have a fever of 99.3. I know! In fact, I am not even sure if I am actually up typing this right now. I am kind of delirious.
I called my cousin Katie, who is a nurse, as I thought she should know this pertinent health information.
"Ninety-nine point three?" she said. "June, I think you'll live."
You know, what is the POINT of her getting a nursing degree if she is unwilling to take the raging fevers of her relatives seriously? It could be Lassa Fever, but does she care?
Anyway. I told you I was gonna tell you the "Aunt Katie, are you a lesbian?" story, and since "Aunt" Katie refuses to fly in and care for me in my feverish hour of need, I will tell you that story today.
Katie's sister Maria–who is similarly my cousin, coincidentally–has a daughter named Annalese. I am quite fond of Anna, because she reminds me of myself. And see, that is why I am a horrid person. I mean, maybe it's the fever talking, but what kind of person likes a child only because they remind one of oneself?
Still. I do. She is an only child, like me, and she is the only grandchild on one side, as I am. Naturally, this leads her to have a whole, "TAAA-DAAA! Here I am!" attitude when she walks into a room.
So, Anna's mom, Maria, is kind of a glamour puss. She wears heels, and dresses, and always has her makeup all perfect and what do you do with a problem like Maria? She is hot. There is no debate.
Now, Katie, my other cousin, is beautiful, but she is not a high-heel kind of a gal. She and her husband always live out in the wild, and do things like snowshoe to work. Me too.
So, believe it or not, everyone was getting ready for my Uncle Jim's funeral, of all things, and Anna walked into the bathroom where everyone was primping.
"FABULOUUUUUS!" she sang out, looking at her mom. "FABULOUSSSSSSS!" she exclaimed, looking at her grandma. "FAAAAAABULOUSSSS!" she said, peering at herself and gettin' all Carson Kressley.
Then she looked over my cousin Katie's pants and sweater ensemble.
"…NORMAL!" she sang.
A few days later, Katie and Anna were in the car. "Aunt Katie? Are you a lesbian?" she asked, not knowing that this would be something I would delight over and ask my cousin Katie every time we talked for the rest of our lives.
"No, Anna, you know I'm married," said Katie.
There was a pause. "It's okay to be gay," Anna instructed Katie. I think it was sensitive of her to try to help her come out like this. Maybe she could work at some crisis line somewhere.
"I KNOW it's okay to be gay," said Katie, "but I'm NOT gay. I'm married to Uncle Jason."
"Well…you kind of dress like a lesbian," Anna offered.
See. When Marvin's grandmother died? I did not know what I was gonna do about having an absolute top-of-the-heap favorite relative. Who was gonna beat a 93-year-old, two-foot-tall woman with flaming red hair who told you whatever impolite thing came into her head?
Also, is it inappropriate to send a 10-year-old episodes of The L Word? Cause girlfriend needs to expand her repitoire of what a lesbian looks like. They don't ALL wear Birkenstocks and plaid shirts, like my cousin Katie. Maybe I should just forward the child a few articles about Linday Lohan. Would that work?
Comment of the week goes to my similarly-Birkenstock-wearing-but-also-not-a-lesbian friend Hometown HorseLady. I loved her description of why she loves winter, even though I can't imagine loving winter.
Talk to you later, if I can bring this fever down.