Of the many varieties of formal human relationships, none holds a candle to cousins.
Cousins are the nails that clinch the larger family structure together. They are its haphazard but effective memory bank, its mentor, its conscience, its court jester.
Unique among genealogical — as well as legal — relations, cousins are the down-home, don’t-lie-to-me, go-to-the-wall, in-your-face kind of friends that each of us could use a dozen more of (and, if we had them, would probably drive us nuts).
You really can’t put much past a cousin. Oh, maybe in the early years, especially if you’re the elder. But by the time you hit the acne era, you know who you can trust and confide in, and who will never let you crawl too far out on the limb of self-delusion.
Moms and dads are fine and very necessary,