idiotpruf

The Big Family Picnic: The Aftermath

A lovely family having a picnic–this is not your family.

The big family picnic has hit your community like a tsunami and is now slowly receding back into the ocean.

Your local emergency room has been taken off high alert and much of their staff has been given a well deserved vacation.

Once again your family has overtaxed their staff, frayed their nerves, and extinguished their stock of gauze, sutures and eye patches.

They’ve treated various members of your family for the following injuries, ailments, and assorted issues:

• Contusions.
• Abrasions.
• Cuts.
• Lacerations.
• Puncture wounds.
• Broken bones.
• Bone bruises.
• Minor burns.
• Severe burns.
• Indian burns–you have an uncle who’s a jackass. (Actually you have several.)
• Food poisoning.
• Alcohol poisoning.
• Lead poisoning.
• Radiation poisoning.
• Smoke inhalation.
• Bite wounds–some animal, some human, some unidentifiable, and one that appears to be from a Bigfoot.
• Stab wounds.
• Gunshot wounds.
• Crossbow wounds.
• Ax wounds.
• One particularly gruesome wound seemingly caused by medieval mace.
• Asphyxiation in one individual who appears to have been strangled with a garter snake.
• One garter snake bite.
• Several cases of acute mental distress.
• One case of a crippling fear of barbecue implements.
• One barbeque implement lodged in a bodily orifice it has no business being anywhere near.
• Dysentery.
• Scurvy.
• The plague.
• Acute jock itch. (Don’t ask.)

The source of many of the problems was your uncle and his trunk full of games/weapons:

• Horse shoes.
• Horse whips.
• Croquet mallets.
• Croquet balls.
• The little hoops you knock the croquet ball through that can be used to puncture human skin.
• Lawn darts–your family is the reason lawn darts were made illegal in the State of New York and why a similar measure concerning bocce balls is currently making it’s way through state legislation.
• Bocce balls.
• Softballs.
• Softball bats.
• Vampire bats.
• Dueling pistols.
• Unexploded ordinance.
• A board with a nail through it–this has the dual purpose of breaking open pinatas and killing barn rats.
• A big stick with a jagged point that your uncle refers to as his eye-poking stick.

Once again your aunt has brought a cauldron of potato salad with way too much eye-of-newt in it. It results in stomach cramps, vomiting, and explosive diarrhea. Also, your cousin grows a tail.

Your aunt claims she had nothing to do with the locust swarm, but it seems like a bit of a coincidence that it happens every year.

Another aunt accosts you because you told her daughter that if she ate a dragonfly she would turn into a dragon.

Note: Have you ever eaten a dragonfly? You don’t know this isn’t true.

Your uncle–the volunteer firefighter–has inadvertently set fire to himself, a pavilion, and an old-growth forest. Unfortunately your uncle was only one still standing at the end of the day.

As the big family picnic passes and dissolves into repressed memories and a series of panic filled nightmares, your only hope is that all the injuries–apart from some of the more radical skin grafts–heal before the next big family picnic.

Your family seems horrible.

I’m just saying.

Doesn’t every family’s picnics involve a swarm of locusts?