This repost gives a little history of my cousin Corwin, who Mother did NOT want moving on their place. Β In my family of βMixed Nutsβ Cousin Corwin was the winner, hands down. When he was about twelve, he and his twin Kelvin got in a little βdust upβ with the police, so it seemed like a good time to get out of town. Aunt Essie called Daddy, asking if the twins could come spend a few days. Now if the image βtwinsβ brings to mind thoughts of βbarefoot boys with cheeks of tan,β think again. Kelvin to all intents and purposes, could have passed for normal, but Corwin was nuts. At five foot eight and two hundred and sixty pounds, he was physically intimidating. His pale blue eyes blazed with madness. He ripped through a fried chicken like a chain saw. Mother had to double the amount she normally cooked the minute he arrived.
Aunt Essieβs call for relief was well-timed. Mother and Daddy were just about to leave on a much-anticipated vacation. Though Mother could only hear Daddyβs end of the conversation, it was clear he was assuring Aunt Essie βtaking the boys will be no problem. Iβll straighten them out. Weβll come get them as soon as we get back. They can stay as long as they want. Theyβll always have a home with us.β
He hung up, turning to Mother. She was murderous! Like any right thinking human with twelve yearsβ experience with Corwin, she despised him. Sheβd spent most of those years defending her girls from his attacks.
βAre you crazy? I donβt want that maniac out here! He is not coming!β
βYes, he is! Iβve already told Essie weβll come get them as soon as we get back from vacation. Iβm going to bring those boys out here, put βem to work and straighten βem out. Thereβs not a kid in the world I canβt conquer!β
βYou canβt straighten them out. You deserve what you get! Go get them whenever you want to. Weβre not going on vacation!β
Conceding that point, Daddy left, returning several hours later returning with two sullen, hostile boys. Since neither Mother nor the girls had anything to say to him either, it was a quiet house except for chicken bones crunching when Corwin ate. Corwin was exhausted after his big supper and brush with the police so Mother showed him to his bed right after supper. As soon as she cleaned up the kitchen, she went on to bed, leaving Daddy up by himself. He was horrified to find Corwin in his bed when he got ready to turn in. He went to find Mother. She bunked in with the girls, partly to protect them.
βCorwinβs in my bed!β Daddy roared.
βYep. You may as well go ahead and get started straightening him out tonight.β She turned over, the bed shaking with her giggling. Daddy knew when he was whipped.
He got up, blasting the boys out of bed the next morning about six. They were sullen, rubbing their eyes. He was full of false cheer, enjoying the prospect of teaching them to work, turning them into productive humans. They dragged away from the table, out into the dawnβs early light. They were back at noon, to eat and rest in the heat of the day. The boys were unhappy. I donβt think their morning had gone well. Daddy was trying to force a good mood on everybody. After an hour and a halfβs rest, he had them back at it. They ate, bathed, and fell in bed that night. The next morning, he had to drag them out of bed, openly hostile. They took potshots at him at breakfasts before he dragged them off. By noon, things clearly had heated up.
By the fifth day, Daddy was sick of them, but stuck in the nightmare heβd created. He had alienated everybody. In one camp, Mother and the girls hated him. In the other, he was spending his vacation trying βstraighten outβ two juvenile delinquents who openly despised him and made his life a misery on every turn. It was a challenge having to having work like a dog trying to teach them to work when heβd planned to be on vacation.
There was no escaping the nightmare as he spent his nights with the corpulent, malodorous, psychopathic Corwin, snuggled up against him. One morning Daddy got up to find he had no clean underwear in his drawer. While he was searching, the putrid scent of feces drifted from the general area of his closet. He investigated, finding that Corwin had suffered digestive issues, soiled his dainties and concealed them deep in Daddyβs closet, rather than admit to his weak sphincter. Exhausting his underwear wardrobe, heβd helped himself to Daddyβs, which he also soiled and concealed. Daddy had had enough. He made Corwin take the whole disgusting pile outdoors and wash it. Corwin found he didnβt care for washing aged crap out of his (and Daddyβs) drawers, retching the whole time. He felt Daddy ought to wash out his own, even though Corwin had crapped them all and was doubly insulted when Daddy insisted he scoop up the piles of poop and haul the filthy wash water far from the house to dump it. He would have had absolutely no problem leaving the slimy, stinking mess lying on the ground next to the faucet. To everyoneβs relief, Corwin called Aunt Essie, begging to go home. The saga ended with Daddy finding a kid he couldnβt conquer.
Mother hoped never to see Corwin again.
To be continued
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