You can choose your friends, but...

Monday was Memorial Day. My grandma hosted a barbecue for the family at her place, as she always does every year on this holiday. My mom, grandma, aunts, uncles, and cousins were there. I didn't really feel like going, but then I thought about my cousin's barbecue ribs (yummy), so I went. Brought the dog along with me, since I figured the younger cousins might want to play with him.

Oy.

The kids who weren't afraid of dogs were allergic. The kids who weren't allergic were afraid of dogs.

And don't even get me started about my uncles. I've always known they were the more provincial members of the extended family (a less diplomatic adjective would be dumb), but man! I couldn't believe how much their attitudes towards my dog hewed towards the typical dog-phobic-country-bumpkin mindset.

• "He's so big! He must bite, huh?" Ang laki-laki! Siguro nangangagat yan!
• "What do you feed it? Table scraps?" Ano'ng pinapakain mo diyan, tira?
• "You actually buy dog food? Why?! Just feed it leftovers!" Bumibili ka pa ng dog food? Bakit?! Tira nalang!
• "Why doesn't he bark?" Bakit ayaw kumahol?
• "Your apartment must smell like dog shit, huh?" Siguro amoy tae ng aso na ang apartment mo.

UGH!

And my stupid ex-drug-addict-now-a-member-of-a-bizaare-cult-like-born-again-Christian-sect kept making these stupid barking sounds, trying to get my dog to bark at him. (Didn't work. Hahaha.)

... you can't choose your family.

Oh, and yes, my cousin's barbecue was DELICIOUS.