We lived all over. Michigan. The Phillipines. Korea. Southeastern Virginia. Washington, DC. Just to name a few. We always invited the orphans. There was a minimum usually of 10 guests and usually closer to 20.
My parents still have get-togethers. Their chili-con queso at super bowl is well-known. The mushroom swirls at Christmas are epic. And if you decide to eat my dad's chili.. you are on your own brother.
When I used to bring dates to the house... I warned them. Don't do the putt-putt golf contest with the bottle of hennessey. I don't *care* that you're twice daddy's size. He looks so harmless and friendly. He's got the boisterous laugh and the disarming smile. He's irish you fool.
Just as an aside: No, I'm not. He's a step dad. But. Still.
Not one date ever listened. And so. They have a guest bedroom and so it goes.
What's my point again? I never understood why some people say I only want *family* at my holidays. I had an ex who's spoiled little sister took this attitude. Sure I was invited but it was the attitude that was troublesome.
But I've noticed lately that people are frightened over the war and bonding together. I think that is absolutely awesome. Not the part about the war. Of course not.
I think it's awesome that people are realizing what's important. These days I'm giving all my friends a kiss on the cheek hello & good-bye. A well-timed kiss on the cheek goes a long way.
So. Pucker up people.
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