My French Family Reunion

Me and my cousin Steph, who used to blog. Feel free
to go on her blog and bitch at her for not blogging
in over a year. Do it.

Towards the end of the summer, Andrew, my parents and I went up North of the province to go to my mother's family reunion. It only happens every four years, so it's exciting when it finally comes around: we get to pay tribute to the members of our family that have passed on (by choosing one person from each family branch to fight the others to the death. But we're trying to change that). We also like to celebrate all the recent weddings, births, and knocking ups, as it means our plan of world domination can expand. We do all of this celebrating by partying all day and night.

As much as I roll my eyes as Andrew's love for camo and hunting, the French-Canadians of Northern New-Brunswick are basically rednecks: predominantly white, rural, working class people with lots of bad tattoos who listen to French country music (yes, that exists), go to church and love the beer. My family has many of those characteristics and they're awesome.

Since Andrew and my French family were so similar, I thought they would get along great (most of them are bilingual, so Andrew wouldn't have to use his French to communicate. Which is good, because all he knows are "How are you?", "You're a fat cow" and some animal names). To help Andrew better integrate into my family, I decided that I should include an interesting (albeit false) fact about him whenever I  introduced him.    

 I came up with a quite a few. They include: 


This is me in my Typique hat (the mascot of
the big festival held in my mother's hometown)
and a ploye, a local dish that I FUCKING LOVE.



Hi, this is my boyfriend Andrew... he has a glass eye.

...He has an STD.

...He likes to make jokes about killing puppies.

...He has a thing for women over 70.

...He eats banana peels.

...He can't feel anything past his left knee.

...He has a pet moth.

...He once made out with a drag queen. He had no idea it was a man.

...He's wearing a wig.

...He's a eunuch.

...He memorized every Teletubbies episode.

...His aspirations include creating the biggest ball of chewed bubblegum in the world.

...He farts when he's excited.

...He wants to dye our pets' fur in camo.

He didn't appreciate my efforts at all. He still had a pretty good time without the use of my master plan, although he was most likely referred to as "the boyfriend of the crazy chick wearing a porcupine hat."