Over the holidays my brother and I had a little contest. We tried to name all of the “aunts” we had while growing up. It took us a long time, and I’m not convinced we named them all.chip-jones

   We have a wide variety of aunts in and around our family. They fit into several  catagories.

   First of all, there are the actual female siblings of parents. Shall we call them real aunts?

   Our dad is an only child and our mom has two sisters. Therefore we have two real aunts. But only one is a standard real aunt: Aunt Shirley.

   Aunt Shirley was a year or two older than my mom. She had three kids, our cousins, who were basically the same ages as my brothers, sister and I. Standard real aunts produce standard cousins.

   Our other real aunt, Aunt Debbie, is not so standard. She is my mom’s younger sister, way younger sister. Way younger, as in 10 weeks older than me. Same age, same grade in school. There are all sorts of stories I could tell you about growing up with an aunt the same age. My high school friends trying to date her, then joking that I should call them Uncle. Or the time in high school I innocently stopped to visit my grandmother. How was I supposed to know that Aunt Debbie was having a slumber party? What sort of grandmother tells a grandson, making an innocent visit, to hit the road? But that’s for another column.

   Then there was a slew of related great aunts, parents’ cousins, and other assorted female relatives, too old to call by their first names but too close to be called Miss or Mrs.

   My brother and I decided that if we took the 20 most popular names for girls born between 1900 and 1930, we had an aunt or two with each name. We got a Hazel, a Bessie, a Lucille, an Eleanor, a Lanette, a couple of  Dorothys, a Louise, a bunch of Helens, a Vianna … you get the picture.

   Then there was our Aunt Mary. If you went to first grade in Knox between 1935 and 1970, you had my Aunt Mary as a teacher. If the stories I have heard are true, you probably got paddled by her, too.  I know for a fact that she paddled her future son-in-law, my brother-in-law, and his brother, to name three.

   Also, if you happened to have died in Knox during that same time period, she played the organ at your funeral. My Uncle Harry ran a funeral home there.

   Then there were our Swedish aunts. These were my Grandmother Jones’ friends. Swedish aunts had several things in common. They were either old maids or widows. They had bluish hair. They smelled of sweet perfume and makeup. They used too much rouge and lipstick. They loved to hug, and these hugs always left rouge or lipstick residue.

   Aunt Hedwig still had a Swedish accent. She pronounced her J’s like Y’s (think the Swedish chef from the Muppets). Therefore my sister Judi was Youdee, my brother Jeff was Yeffery. We were all Yoneses.

   Aunt Helen was always at our Christmas Eve celebration. I remember being 5 or 6 years old and getting an envelope for Christmas. Two dollars!!! Folding money — serious bucks to a kindergartener. I also remember being 25 or 26 and getting the same envelope and the same two dollars. Inflation was a concept not grasped by Swedes.

   Then there was Auntie Ada. She wasn’t a true Swedish aunt for two reasons. One, she was Norwegian. Apparently Swedes and Norwegians are rivals.  At get togethers the Swedes would get a few skols into them  (this is a shot of cheap whiskey poured from an expensive bottle) and sing Swedish songs. Not only did Ada not join, she would chime in with snide comments in Norwegian. Two, she was married, thereby breaking the widow or old maid rule. Maybe that’s why she was Auntie Ada instead Aunt Ada.

   Last but not least was Mabel. She had the attributes of a Swedish aunt. She was my grandmother’s friend. She never married. She had bluish hair. She used too much perfume and rouge. She could lay a hug on you. Except for not being Swedish, she had it all. For some reason, she wasn’t Aunt or Auntie Mabel, she was just Mabel. No disrespect, but she was simply Mabel.

This aunt stuff is complicated.

CHIP JONES is a lifetime LaPortean, the voice of the Slicers on local radio, and a real estate agent. Contact him at chipjonesmtm@comcast.net.