Don’t get excited. This little post is not really about crime. Although I am quite sure that there are many who would believe me to be criminally insane for having written it.
You see, it’s like this. After my parents died, my family decided to have family reunions every three years. It couldn’t be done too frequently because my six sisters and I were scattered all over the East Coast and Texas.
Oh, yes, when I say, “My family decided,” that wasn’t quite true. I should have said, “My six sisters decided” because they never paid any attention to me.
Anyway, we had reunions.
By the way, in case you didn’t know, at family reunions, photographs are obligatory.
So, because of arbitrary obligations, there was a photograph taken of my six sisters and their darling brother.
One of my brothers-in-law decided that they and my wife should have photos of them taken. So that also became part of the ritual. These things sometimes get out of control.
Then what happened was that Jim, Winona’s husband, decided that anybody could be in-laws.
What this is all boiling down to is that the reunions were composed of my sisters, myself, and The Outlaws.
