We’re Hitting the Ground Running

I’ve heard stories about Aunt Jackie and my crazy New Jersey cousins my whole life, but I’d never met any of them. Turns out, the reports were greatly under-exaggerated.

Seven cousins pick me up at the airport. Seven! We’re crammed into a minivan that looks like it escaped from a demolition derby.

Jackie’s in the back with the luggage because, as she bragged, “None a your fat asses would fit back here.”

Apparently we’re not driving fast enough for her. “Pick it up, already. I’m sweating my balls off, for Chrissake!”

They say she’s a Catholic school principal.

I believe ‘em.


Prompt: Four camels