That's the thing with a loving family

Ilajna, Doobie and I were just indulging in a post-repas chat, being as it was the first evening in a long time that all three of us had got home early. Earlier on, I'd whipped us up a risotto for supper, so we were relaxing in a mood of generally pleasant satiation. Well, not a risotto really, if truth be told. Cuz I'd skipped out on the cream and cheese. And used brown rice instead of risotto. And added my own twist in the flavourings. So basically just a personalised concoction of rice and vegetables. All the same, one mustn't stifle creativity of course, so I prefer not to refer to my cooking in derogatory terms.

Just as I was about to start doing the dishes (the undisputed bane of my existence), my mobile trilled at me. This was a positive and timely occurence on many faces. Primarily because it promised a fun yack-sesh, which is never something to be scoffed at. But perhaps more importantly because it absolved me from cleaning-up responsibilities. So I feigned a rueful look (sorry, I'd have totally helped out with those dishes if the darned phone hadn't rung right now) and scurried into my room.

"Hello?"
"Ficali?" I recognised my uncle's voice immediately. Now my uncle, for all his fortes and lovable idiosyncracies, is not much of a phone-talker. So by the fact that he had called at all I immediately (and wrongly) assumed a family emergency.
But then he said, "So I read your blog."
Now, it might not be of comparable scale, but a statement like that, as you can imagine, is enough to induce a state of panic and emergency of its own right.
So I gave my typical eloquent answer. "Ermmm..."
But he was on a roll this time, didn't even need a response from me. "It's great! It's professional! You have to get it published! I know this one person in the publishing industry, I can put you in touch with him... you should be writing a book..."

I was mortified. Sink-in-a-hole-in-the-ground kind of mortified.

Gently, I pointed out to him that he was bound to like it, seeing as I was family. It wasn't a very objective perspective. "There's literally thousands of more talented bloggers out there," I explained.
"But I really liked your sentence about ol' Macko," he protested grumblingly, as though that in itself was sufficient evidence to prove his point.
Then my aunt got on the line. "You know the best one?!" she giggled, "the best one is where you write the thirteen steps to catching a guy. It was just so funny!"

I hadn't thought I'd see the day when my aunt would congratulate me on my guy-catching strategies. This modern world, I tell ya. Its throwing generational structure into disarray, leaving me somewhat discombobulated.

Then the Cos got online, and laughed so heartily I knew she could tell exactly how I was feeling.

We chatted for a while longer before I hung up (after I'd peeked into the kitchen to make sure the dishes were done). But their kind words stuck in my head all evening. That's the thing with a loving family - it skews perspective towards perfection.

Before he hung up the phone, my uncle even told me, "You're an intellectual." See what I mean about skewed? I let out a thigh-slapping guffaw. But still, it's so heartwarming isn't it. That's the thing with a loving family.