181127_GMA_JunkmansDaughtersBrother0007-2.jpg

A hand-painted sign that used to hang above the old location of Junkman’s Daughter’s Brother now sits in the store’s new building on Tuesday, Nov. 27, 2018, in Athens, Georgia. The store is now strictly a holiday store and will remain in their new location through December until January 2019. (Photo/Gabriella Audi, www.gabbyaudi10.wixsite.com/mysite-1)

As Junkman watched his family members stream into his home for their holiday celebration, he asked himself, yet again, why he had to make things so difficult.

“Where should I put the pecan pie?” said Junkman’s daughter’s brother.

“Oh, right here,” Junkman said, sliding his arm across the dining room table and letting the tiny hands, various stoner paraphernalia, antique dolls found in a dumpster, miniature unicorns and other eclectic trinkets fall to the floor. Apparently Junkman could stock his house full of knick-knacks but keep his family tree free from proper names.

Junkman’s sister’s nephew plopped the pie onto the table. “Great. Should still be warm from the oven.”

Junkman’s father’s wife’s husband immediately sat down on the recliner, threw his head back and started snoring. Junkman’s mother’s husband’s father’s great-grandchild voraciously texted her friend’s friend’s friend-friend.

All was going well. His sisters, brothers, brother’s sisters, sister’s nephew’s cousins, brother’s father’s father’s and the rest gathered into his humble abode, eating food off plastic dishes with memes on them and wiping their faces with tie dyed napkins. The family’s chattering softly peppered over a experimental version of Jingle Bells played on loop, courtesy of Junkman’s uncle’s sister-in-law’s niece.  

After several hours, the meal had been finished. Cartons of eggnog laid emptied on the dining table. Junkman realized the family tree he drew on his hand had been smudged throughout the night, so Junkman’s sister’s nephew’s mother’s brother went to find a marker.

On the way, he was stopped by Junkman’s sister’s dog’s dog owner’s dog’s owner of dog, who happened to be Junkman’s sister. She handed him a piece of printer paper consisting of one long chain of family members. He squinted at the small text running down the whole page.

“Junkman’s daughter’s brother’s cousin’s aunt's niece's brother's...What is this?” he asked nervously.

She shot daggers at him. “You said you forgot who you had for Secret Santa, so I reprinted it for you. We’re all playing it tonight. Don’t lose that.”

Junkman mentally slapped himself. He went to find that marker.

Recommended for you

(0) comments

Welcome to the discussion.

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.