You may remember the Gay Uncle’s mother-in-law, Sarah–and her peculiar sense of justice–from this post, or this one. Well, the G.U. spent some time with her this week, and discovered a new instance in which she was able to implement some retribution. Apparently, while at a multi-family retreat she’s attended every year since the 70s, it came to her attention that the granddaughter of one of her long-term friends–let’s call her Carrie, 10–was not being particularly kind to her own granddaughter, Violet, 9. This behavior took many forms: light hording, exclusion, teasing, and other forms of typical, tween bitchery. Well, by the final day, Granny Sarah had had enough. She decided to host a party for all the other members of the camp on the porch of her cabin, and the revelers were all merry and chortling and whatever else WASPS do when on vacation. But when little Carrie came up to the door, she was in for a surprise. “Carrie, you are not invited to this party.” “WTF?” Carrie said. (Well, she didn’t actually say that. She just looked puzzled.) Sarah took this moment of weakness to pounce. “You have not been kind or fair to Violet all week, and I have had it! You have teased her, excluded her from things, refused to share.” Carrie narrowed her eyes. “No I didn’t.” This denial only enhanced Sarah’s resolve. “Yes you did. Now admit it!” (Please recall this is a battle between a 70 year old and a 10 year old.) Eventually, Judge Granny managed to extract a confession from the girl. But did this allow her passage into the party? No fucking way! The door was closed and she was sent home. She apparently returned later with her father, and a forced, false apology. But she still wasn’t allowed in. Perhaps Carrie will learn her lesson next year? Since no rules were set up in advance, since no expectations or repercussions were laid out should these rules be transgressed, and since the whole punishment was brought on swiftly and as a total surprise, the G.U. would say, Probably not. More likely, she’ll just harbor resentment and hatred toward Sarah, and when she’s not looking, she’ll spit in her Waldorf Salad or pee in her underwear drawer. The Gay Uncle, for one, can’t wait to find out!