Family time

Sunday was my aunt's birthday. To celebrate, we bought a cake, loaded up all the electronics Mark owns to keep him busy on the long drive, and headed to the desert.

"What are we gonna do when we get there?" Mark asked.

"We're going to visit," I told him. "That's what families do to celebrate special days."

He groaned loudly. To him, "visit" means the adults sit around and gab. He wasn't any happier when I informed him the Gameboy and iPod were for the car only; I was confiscating them as soon as we arrived. Even the promise of other kids to play with didn't make him smile.

"Don't worry," I told him. "Some day you'll have your own kids to torture with family days."

My mom was staying with my aunt, so she was already there when we arrived. My cousin Kathleen and her boyfriend Tim arrived shortly after us. In no time, the women were off again, headed toward the outlet mall while Tim and Mark stayed back. I couldn't help giggling at the irony.

"I spent the whole drive telling Mark how important it is to spend time with your family," I explained to my mom, aunt and cousin. "And then I ditched him 10 minutes after I got there!"

We returned for lunch, and the arrival of more cousins and my uncle. We enjoyed lunch and cake, and decided to go for a walk afterwards.

My aunt lives in a retirement community, on a golf course. This is important to note for two reasons: 1. The main source of transportation around the neighborhood is golf carts. 2. The seniors don't like to walk, even if (especially if!) they own dogs.

I found this out firsthand as one of the neighbors zipped around the corner at a very fast clip. When she turned back around, I noticed a long leash out the cart, tied to a Scottie running as fast as it could to keep up.




The neighbor passed by, and inquired about my aunt's health.

"She feeling better yet?" she called to my mom.

"Much!" my mom answered.

"She drinking yet?" the neighbor asked. Apparently, this is how they gauge one's health in my aunt's neighborhood.

"Not yet," my mom answered, "but she is eating chocolate!" That garnered a thumbs-up as the neighbor drove off.

We set out on our walk, and once again crossed paths with the Scottie and his owner chatting with another neighbor. The Scottie was now resting on the golf cart seat, but jumped down to greet us.



I couldn't stop giggling about the dog and the golf cart.

"That's how everyone walks their dog around here," my aunt told me.

"Yeah, we're lazy!" laughed the Scottie's owner in the cart.

We walked on back to my aunt's home, to enjoy what was left of the afternoon. We chatted with my uncle, and cousins, and teased the kids. It was a really fun day.



And of course, the best part about it is that the next time Mark asks for a puppy, I'll have a good reason why we can't get one -- we don't have a golf cart, so how ever would we walk it? ;-)

This apple didn't fall far from the tree

This weekend was my mom's birthday, so Mark and I traveled south to help her celebrate.

Before we left, my oldest brother Scott asked if I own a chainsaw, which I answered with a hearty guffaw.

"Aren't chainsaws power tools? And really sharp?" I asked, and he agreed that they are.

"Couldn't I really hurt myself with one?" I also asked, and again, he agreed.

"Then NO! I don't have a chainsaw you can borrow," I answered. (Anybody who knows how klutzy I am and how much damage I've done with a weed wacker, sharp garden tools or any other kind of tools knows just how laughable this whole scenario was.)

But apparently my brother Smed has one. I agreed to bring it down only after Scott assured me he has medical insurance.

So we stopped at Smed's house long enough to pick it up. We were only there a few minutes, which made my 2-year-old nephew Johnny mad. He loves Mark, and was not happy with the short visit. He was so mad that he yelled, "I go with Mark!" and ran out to our car in his pajamas.

"I'll take him if you want," I told his mom, but Brandy shook her head. Smed, on the other hand, yelled, "Johnny, come back! You need an overnight bag if you're going with Mark!"

So we left with one chainsaw but no Johnny. Along the way, I called my brother Tim. My nephew Nick answered the phone, and I asked how his birthday slumber party went last week. He said it went well until one of the kids went home crying.

"Why was he crying?" I asked.

"Well, a giant gorilla tried to kidnap him," Nick explained. When I yelped, "What??" he elaborated.

"My dad told the kids the circus was in town, and that a gorilla escaped," Nick started. "Then his friend came over that night dressed like a gorilla, to kidnap a kid."

I was laughing so hard, I almost crashed the car. I could totally picture the kids screaming inside the tent as a giant gorilla grunted and chased them.

"Who'd he kidnap?" I asked, when I finally caught my breath again.

"Oh, he didn't kidnap anyone after that kid started crying," Nick said. "Oh yeah, and Dad took us out to toilet paper a house, too!"

Sometimes I wonder who's really in charge at that house...

We got to San Diego just in time for lunch. Mary grabbed Mark, plus her three kids, and went to pick up pizzas, and I enjoyed the quiet solitude. For all of about two minutes, until one of the neighbor kids walked into the living room and asked where everybody went. I realized my parents hadn't just gained three new resident grandkids, but the two neighbor kids as well!

The kids swam, screamed and splashed all afternoon. It sounded like summer camp with all that ruckus. I don't know how people handle six kids of their own, especially six wild ones like these!

By late afternoon (aka Happy Hour), we were back down to four kids. Mary brought out appetizers, and my mom brought a celebratory bottle of wine. We dug into both.

I'm not sure how it came up, but somebody mentioned there's a lucky day next month -- 09/09/09. Which prompted my Dad to ask, "Who knows what happened on 11/11?"

I was on my second beer, and had no idea.

"Arma--" he started, and I yelled, "Armageddon!"

"Armistice," he corrected me. Mark began to ask what the Armistice was, and I said, "Don't do it, Mark! Don't ask! You will get a long lecture all about the Armistice!"

Then I said I liked my answer better anyway.

"What's Armageddon?" Mark asked, and I answered, "Glad you asked -- cuz Armageddon myself another beer!"

I really cracked myself up, and I couldn't stop snickering at that lame joke. My mom laughed along, too, but finally told my dad not to encourage me.

"Fine," I answered. "Then Armageddon myself another mom!" I used that joke in five or six other sentences, and laughed just as hard each time. Finally, my niece Gabi smacked me and said it wasn't funny at all.

We enjoyed an awesome dinner, courtesy of Chefs Scott and Mary. They outdid themselves with an amazing chicken Marsala.

The celebration ended well past dark, and by the time I went to bed, I was tired but happy. I talked to or saw all my family members this weekend, which is a pretty big feat considering how big our clan is.

Not to get all sappy or sentimental, but it really was a great reminder of what's important in life. And it was fun to see that even as the years pass by, my family stays exactly the same. Sure, we have a new generation, but they have the same demented sense of humor as the two generations before them.

Which is both comforting and disturbing, all at once!