Late last summer, Emily and I wowed you with a sadly true tale of how inbred we are. I suggest you go back and read the original post for the whole sordid story (’cause you know, it’s funny), but the short version is that Emily and I are not only first cousins to each other, we are also FIFTH cousins to each other. (And our own siblings).
Back then, my Uncle Paul, my dad’s brother (who is one of the funniest people I know and the person from whom I get my *ahem* unparalled sarcastic wit) left a comment on that post stating that the family tree was even worse on my dad’s side of the family, who are from Virginia. (Emily and I are related on my maternal side via the great state of Kentucky). But I must confess, I thought he must have been exaggerating. ‘Cause it couldn’t get any worse, right?
Wrong. Reeeeeee-ooooong. Last week Uncle Paul sent me an email detailing our tree, or shrub, as it may be more accurately described. I present it to you, in summarized form:
So here’s how it breaks down. This “Mark” character on my family tree is the great-grandfather on both sides of the family to my grandma, and on one side of the family to my grandpa. So, where usually two people would have EIGHT great-grandfathers between them, my grandparents have SIX. Cause three of them?? ARE THE SAME GUY. Sooo….my grandparents are third cousins. My grandmother is also HER OWN THIRD COUSIN. My dad is his own fourth cousin, and I am my own fifth cousin, as well as fifth cousin to both of my brothers.
So, I am a *smidge* inbred.
ON BOTH SIDES OF THE FAMILY.
Incidentally, I am also lucky that I don’t have two heads.
I will not answer questions about the number of my fingers and toes.
