We might be family

Today, I heard a conversation that could only be heard in a town like mine.
Two boys were walking their scooters along the road.  They looked similar, in the way that ten year old boys often do; round-faced, impossibly blond hair in a smooth schoolboy cut, with eyes that look permanently confused.
"We could be family," one said to the other who grunted in response.
"Yeah, I'm related to George Brown."
"But George Brown is my cousin," he replied, emphasising the 'my' and stamping his foot.
"Yeah, but he's my Mum's Sister's Daughter's Son."
They both scratched their heads.
"Second cousins?"
"First cousins once removed, my dad said."
"Oh, maybe we are then but you've only just moved here. We've lived here for ever.  My mum and dad and both sets of grandparents were born here."
"Yeah, I know.  I wasn't born here but my mum and dad were. I really think we might be family."
"Like second cousins or something?"
"Yeah."


This week I became a great Auntie

Great Aunt Julia.

 It has a certain ring to it and should be said with a plumy accent, so that you imagine a tall, elegant woman who wears black and pokes at the baby with boney fingers.  In this fictionalised version of myself, the Long Suffering Husband died years ago and my own children wouldn't exist, leaving me a lonely and self-righteous old woman with nothing better to do than change my will in favour of the the new sprog until he is old enough to upset me.  I could give unwanted parenting advice on leaving babies to cry or swaddling them, so that they don't grow up with deformed limbs, while feeding a non-weaned child a Werther's Original, or a thimbleful of brandy.  I could sniff at their choice of name and insist that his first name should be his Grandfather's, rather than his middle name, which coupled with their 'modern' choice of first name makes him sound like a round on Only Connect, where the category is American rivers.

I am not that Great Aunt, though.  I'm just excited to be able to buy baby clothes and sing nursery rhymes.  In truth, I will probably see very little of this little boy, as he is the LSH's nephew's son and he hardly ever sees his sister (mainly because the LSH looks like his dad and his face makes his sister cry).

My children are first cousins once removed to the baby, so maybe one day their children could be pushing a scooter along with this little boy suggesting that they might be family.  Although, without the town connection they'll probably conclude that they are not related after all.