Current mood:

indescribable

Overheard in My Genepool
Normally, I don't talk about my family. I don't, not because there's anything wrong with them, but instead because they're happy and sane. Normally. Every once in a while, though, there's a banner day for familial WTF.

My parents and I went to dinner with my grandmother tonight, and she was feeling down on the modern world. Only... in that uniquely vaguely hallucinogenic way of old people who don't really *understand* some details of the modern world.

"I don't know how it could really get worse. With violence on tv and with the computers...."

Apparently because her house cleaner met a guy over the internet during the break up of her marriage, and because she's heard of people meeting people over the internet, she seems to visualize it as some kind of dingy single's bar of sin. Possibly with a few well lit corners for selling books, renting videos and discussing quilts.

Meanwhile, it is my uncle's turn, at long last, to do something eccentric, and for my aunt to be the bemused sensible one.

The man has decided, apropos of nothing, that what his life really needs is chickens. No, really*.

Why? We do not know.

First any of us heard of it is after he sent away for the exact kind of baby chickens (and one rooster) that he wanted. From California.

Mail-order chickens.

Ladies and gentlemen, my family. (facepalm)


*No, he isn't a farmer, he frames pictures.