Trends Reviews and Recaps

Okay, so I’m on the phone this afternoon speaking with my cousin’s mother’s sister’s daughter -- who happens, circuitously, to be my sister -- about my father’s niece’s husband’s mother-in-law -- who is, well, my aunt -- about said aunt and her recent problems with her throat.

I mentioned to my cousin’s mother’s sister’s daughter, i.e., my sister, that I had told my father’s niece’s husband’s mother-in-law, i.e., my aunt, that she, my father’s niece’s husband’s mother-in-law, i.e., my aunt, should seek the intercession of the patron saint of throats.

Unfortunately, while speaking with my father’s niece’s husband’s mother-in-law, i.e., my aunt, I could not recall which saint was the patron of healthy throats.

In relaying this to my cousin’s mother’s sister’s daughter, i.e., my sister, she, my cousin’s mother’s sister’s daughter, i.e., my sister, interrupted me. “St. Blaise,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Oh my God, you’re right,” I responded. “How in the world did you know that?” I asked.

To which my cousin’s mother’s sister’s daughter, i.e., my sister, responded: “Don’t you remember the annual ‘blessing of the throats’ when we were in school?”

Uh . . . no. I think I missed that. We switched out of parochial schools after I finished first grade.

God, what a great culture.

[Note to readers: If, after reading this, you’re not “rolling around on the floor laughing your ass off,” as they say, don’t worry. This entire post is based on a hilarious inside joke that I would love to share with you privately some day.]