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    "Top blog/Renato Obeid's World/Today's pick: This rambling weblog is worth reading not so much for its satirical posts but more for its insight into the minutiae of life in Lebanon, including the etiquette of road accidents and how to hire a taxi.” -Jane Perrone, The Guardian

    renatoobeidsworld
     
    Saturday, August 27, 2005  
    When my cousins were younger, they’d come over and want to start playing straight away.
    I’d tell them that that was antisocial and that they had to sit for a while and make polite conversation before they played.
    The two boys put up with this for years.
    “What did you do today Omar?”
    “We went to the supermarket”
    “And what else?”
    “We bought cheese”
    “No, that’s the same story as the supermarket story, that’s included in the supermarket story - you have to tell me something different, separate”.
    Until their little sister came along and put me in my place and liberated them.
    “When people visit people they make conversation with each other”
    “We’re not people, we’re children”.
    Not surprising from a young lady who sternly replied ‘’I’m not a cat, I’m a woman’’ (in English) when she was all of nine years old when I told her ‘’bon appetit cat’’ (it rhymes in Arabic).

    My official title for my young cousins is “The Monkeys”.
    A term of endearment that I first bestowed on the elder child Fouad and then his successive siblings as they came along.
    He was just a toddler when he was first “knighted” and would occasionally protest.
    “He called me a monkey!”
    When his younger brother Omar was born, I made sport of saying, “Omar’s brother’s a monkey” to circumvent calling him a monkey directly.
    He finally cottoned on to this.
    “Meaning me!”
    “No, not you, Omar’s brother is a monkey”
    “Meaning me!”
    Ad infinitum.
    He finally figured it out and said “Guy’s brother is a monkey”.
    Meaning me!


    Saul Bellow observed that all fiction is biographical.True - most fiction is derived from fact whereas most non-fiction is fiction in that it is the writer's perspective and opinion.

    6:20 pm

    Comments:
    we all have family stories and yes I remember having to visit an elderly aunt in the rest home when I was a kid, we didn't want to go, but my mother and grandmother took us, well the aunt sometimes didn't even know who we were so we would visit with the lady in the next bed who was so sweet and nice! so it all worked out in the end! :)
     
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