Recently, a second- or third- or once-removed- cousin came to visit.
It was a nice visit, and at the end, she asked if we’d like to buy some paintings that her husband had done. He’s a talented guy and we were both pleased and amused to be “patrons of the arts”, given our own humble financial status.
I’d forgotten until this transaction was brought up that this same cousin, years ago, had lived for a short while with Peter and me, and that at that time she also asked for money.
The way the story got passed around, though, the adopter and her daughter became the heroines and my contribution was ignored.