I Am Number X

Since our trip last week was for my older brother-in-law’s wedding, we met a lot of family.  Both my mother-in-law and my father-in-law come from fairly large families (7 and 9 kids, respectively), in which they’re the eldest.  Maybe a third of my aggregate aunts and uncles by marriage came for the wedding from Australia and Singapore.  And the introductions all went something like this one, from the night we arrived:

MIL: These are my sisters from Australia.

Aunt: Pleased to meet you. I’m Number Three.

Other Aunt: And I’m Number Seven.

Me: (blinks and looks hunted) Um, what are your names?

MIL: Fong and Ming.  (Who are often called Samyi and… I forget the other one, but it’s “Third Aunt” and “Seventh Aunt”, by my husband and his brothers.)

The next day, I met some uncles, my FIL’s brothers, and their wives.  I think they at least started with their names before their numbers.  Then, that evening, there was a family dinner with one more uncle and his wife.

Wife: I’m Number Two.

Me (internally): Aaugh.

Thankfully, their daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren did not come with numbers attached.

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