We Are Family

Image from HERE.

This weekend I went to a family wedding in Kansas City. It was great. Beautiful bride, handsome groom, happy families, and an open bar.

And my children were in a hotel room with a babysitter. It does not get better than that!

In my family, weddings are taken very seriously. It is the perfect opportunity to show the person marrying in how crazy we are. (We pride ourselves on above-average levels of crazy.)

At weddings with my family, you will often hear someone say "Welcome to the family! Good luck; we're crazy!" followed by laughter and high-fiving.

Since crazy is a word that is used differently depending on the conversation, I should explain that for us it means the following:

1. Hilarious: In my family, people tend to speak in "one-liners." It's not unlike a 1940's comedy act, with nervous collar-pulling and exaggerated facial expressions.

2. Loud: Volume is important in my family. If you would like your hilarious quip heard, you best be using your diaphragm and PROJECTING. All the world's a stage!

3. Inappropriate: Making jokes during moments that would seem, to the untrained eye, in poor taste is common practice. For example toasts, or certain religious services. My cousin Anne actually turned around to the congregation during her own wedding vows and made a "Phew!" face. Textbook.

4. Intoxicated: Optional, of course. Much like a respectable frat house, no one is forced to imbibe in my family. But it helps with 1-3.

And while no one has ever come out and said it, we believe weddings are a competition. It's between us and the in-laws: whose family is more fun?

Spoiler alert: We are.

Here is an interesting fact: both sides of my family are like this. Not in exactly the same way, but pretty similar. Which makes me think that my parents' wedding must have been EPIC. I can't even imagine the volume, or the one-liners, or the bar bill. Honestly. Wow.

It wasn't until I met my husband's family that I realized that all families aren't like that.When I attended my first family-event with my future in-laws, I couldn't understand why no one was razzing me.

In-Law: Hi, welcome to the party. 

Me: Take it easy on me, guys!

In-Law: Of course. Would you like something to drink?

Me: I better, am I right?

In-Law: Sure ... is lemonade all right?

Me: Oh, yeah, that's fine. You didn't slip anything in it, did you? Ha ha.

In-Law: I'm sorry, what?

Me: Nothing. Sorry. I just . . . because . . . nevermind.

In-Law: Would you like to play some cards?

Me: Uh-oh! That sounds like trouble!

In-Law: What?

Me: Nothing. That would be great, thank you.


Eventually that conversation got uncomfortable. Thankfully, since then, I've stopped accusing my husband's grandma of speaking in euphemisms, my card-game is better than ever, and I've learned to speak at an appropriate volume. Growth.

But let me just say that my own "crazy" family will always be in my heart. Being loud and inappropriate is in my blood, as well as my children's blood. God-willing, it will be in their children's blood. I mean, it must be a dominant gene, right?

It certainly seems dominant.