Growing up, I was super lucky to always be surrounded my lots of cousins. My dad is one of six, and my mom one of five, which means I have upwards of 30 cousins between the two sides. Cousins are pretty cool actually, if you think about it. They’re closer than friends, because they are there for the things that your friends don’t go to. They get dragged out for First Communion’s and Christmas Eve’s and Grandma’s retirement party, and Easter dinner. They’re part of your weird family traditions and understand the crazy language you’ve developed over the years. However, there is enough distance between you guys that growing up you weren’t fighting over whose turn it was to use the TV or who had to do the dishes that night. Basically, cousins exist in this sweet spot of generally being the best, and I’ve becoming more and more aware of this.
I was especially aware of it today sitting on the couch at my cousin Ally’s house. We had just gotten back from Subway and we’re figuring out what to do next. We had big plans for today and the whole weekend, but somehow found ourselves sidetracked by simple catching up. We talked for hours, and made me realize how special and awesome my bond with my cousins are. I can’t think of anyone else who would spend ten minutes reminiscing about a plastic cookie monster cup, or debating who deserves the title of “Funnest Aunt.”
I get a little sad when I think about the fact that my parents do not really talk to or see their cousins all that often. Maybe that’s what happens when you have so many siblings, I’m not sure. What I do know is that I will continue to aggressively hunt down any of my cousins who think that they can miss big family events and do my best to remind us all how lucky we are to have each other.