Being around my relatives for a week, I’ve realized one thing. I’m the stupidest person on the face of the earth. Six days ago, I considered myself to be a fairly well educated, articulate individual. So much for that theory.
My cousins ask a LOT of questions … unfortunately, I don’t know the answers to any of them.
“Michael, why are school buses yellow?”
“Michael, why did they build the St. Louis Arch?”
After the 27th time answering, “I don’t bloody KNOW!” you’d think they would have gotten the hint that I’m clearly ignorant. Nope. The questions continue to come fast and furious.
“Michael, where do oysters come from in the U.S.?”
“Michael, when was the Plaza built?”
“Michael, what’s the most popular American automobile?”
For the past couple days, I’ve just been making stuff up to appease them. They ask. I answer. Regardless of whether or not it makes sense. I’m starting to sound like Cliff Claven.
“Michael, when was Iowa founded?” “It was founded in 1844, the same year Augusten Lather created Dial Soap.”
“Michael, why are there so many deer in your backyard?” “My parents have installed a special type of hybrid grass that deer find more appealing than our neighbors’ grass. It’s delightful. Would you like to try some?”
Why I didn’t start lying through my teeth on the first day, I’ll never know. My relatives now look at me with a bright-eyed sense of awe and respect. And, you know, it’s good to be the king. Speaking of, if I were to ask them about any part of Britain’s history or royal heritage, they’d instantly know it.
Unless they’re making it up too. Those cheeky buggers!