As a "P.S." to the story of Cecil and Frusco:

When I was 13 my great aunt Gertrude died and Cecil and Frusco came to Pittsburgh for the funeral. One night when we were all there, sitting around the big dining room table in the house on Burchfield Street--our family plus my uncle's family plus my grandparents--Cecil turned to look at me. I was sitting next to her. She studied my physique and said in her I'm-sure-of-this voice: "Now look at Leslie. She is flat-chested; she isn't even developed yet. It's the warm Mediteranean sun that ripens the girls in Capri. You should see our neighbor's girl, Gabriella. She's Leslie's age and she is full-breasted, warm, and ripe from that wonderful sun..."
This is where I simultaneously wanted to laugh and crawl under the table. It was this kind of talk that annoyed my father and my uncle...and it went on all the time when Cecil and Frusco visited!