The Pedafamilias

Loki: Our father, Evs, is notorious for ignoring you when you ask him a question. Even if you ask him something directly, he will not answer you if he so chooses. This drives me INSANE. When Stella and I were growing up, we would have to sing and dance just so that our father would notice us and hopefully, give us an answer to whatever we were asking. (Usually it was just to ask if our cousin could stay the night…) But he would just look at us and not say a thing. “Well… yes or no?” …NOTHING. We would then resort to coming up with some jig about “Please say yes… say yes, yes, yes….” to perform for him in the hopes of him blessing our great idea with an answer. We would put on costumes and even choreograph dances to go along with it. I remember our mom always saying, “Just don’t bother him…” And then she would get on to him saying, “EVS! Just answer them!” I just wanted a yes or no so I could get on with my life! He seemed to enjoy torturing us. I don’t understand what we were being taught… patience? No, I am not going to attach a lesson to that… it was just annoying.

Stella: Yes, I am thinking that is was just a torture mechanism as well. He just wanted to see us sweat. It’s like holding up a treat in front of a dog and making them wait for it… and beg for it… and then not ever giving it to them. Haha! Stupid dog. Yes, I remember doing a whole performance on the swing set one time. I’m sure we had some great routines on the trampolines as well… Too bad my mother never told me that I wasn’t really good at doing cartwheels until I was 25. She lied to me for 25 years! And here I am thinking the whole time that I could do excellent round-offs and cartwheels just like the other girls. One time when I was older, (after my childhood memories were shattered to pieces and it was revealed to me that I was never a good gymnast,) I stood in front of Evs and asked a question… and then stepped over to the side as if he was the Soup Nazi while waiting for his answer. “Medium crab bisque…”

Loki: Hahahah! I thought you knew you couldn’t do a cartwheel!! Did you not understand why you never received a perfect 10 during our gymnastic routine competitions? Or how you could never land straight on the balance beam?! Don’t blame Mom… Of course she told you you were wonderful! She is your mom! She has to. It’s sorta like grandpa always telling us how we should all sing in an “all-cousin choir” when I’m pretty sure none of us could sing. Surely at least dad told you about your bad cartwheel form? No? I guess he didn’t care so much about our dancing jigs or our balance beam/floor routines. But I’m sure he corrected your swing.

Stella: What are you talking about? Grandpa is brutally honest. One time he told me it looked like I got in a fight with a cat (when I had a few zits on my forehead during my pre-pubescent years.) Mom is the one who is the big fat biased liar. Don’t trust her opinion ever. And I don’t remember being invited into this cousins choir, but surely I would have been considering that I have the best voice out of the family by far. Aw, did that hurt your feelings? Guess you’ve never had to listen to yourself sing En Vogue at the top of your lungs in your bedroom like I did growing up. And don’t start telling me about what a grand athlete you were. Grandpa also says that I could have been better than you guys at every sport if I was so inclined. It was just that I didn’t want to do it so by sitting out, I made you look good.

Loki: Oh hush. You have some serious competition issues with me. Why must one be better? I never said that I was a good singer or that you weren’t. Just because you sing louder than everyone doesn't mean it's better. Of course I was more athletic than you…duh. I wasn’t going to say anything about that! Although I did hear Grandpa just this weekend talk about how you quit sports too early… He blames mom don’t you know because she didn’t “push” you hard enough. Whatever. It just wasn’t your thing. No big thing. Yes, mom is definitely biased! What are we talking about now… mom, dad, grandpa or your singing abilities?

How many fingers am I holding up?