Squawk Radio
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
ELOISA on that great American event....
The Summer Family Reunion
My mother really loves family reunions, so this is about the 65th in my life (and no, I'm not that old yet). We all gather at a lake in northern Minnesota -- which is where all good Minnesotans go, like lemmings, every summer. Lakes abound, and so do people talking about the best place to buy worms, if that gives you a sense of it.
Uncles, aunts, cousins and my own family flood in. I have three siblings, each of whom has reproduced, so the number of attendees under ten is significant. They swim naked and scare each other with stories about leaches. People lucky enough to be older than ten sit around talking about our jobs (everything from public service to writing literature to giving out mortgages), eating, cooking and eating some more.
For dinner we put up a long long table on the screened-in porch, light a lot of candles, open a number of bottles of wine, and banish all the rugrats upstairs to watch a movie. Conversation ranges from "that was the year I was lent out to the State Department," to "My favorite reality show was Wife Swap -- no, it isn't what you think!" (this in response to raised eyebrows from those of us who aren't exactly reality-show-knowledgeable).
Over the years, I've noticed a number of recurring events. I bet you all can add a few:
1). At some point, a man will wander by as you wrestle at the sink and remark: "You'll never be able to wash a pot that large in such a small sink." Need I mention that he will continue on, affectionately nursing his beer?
2) Many things will "get" into places they don't belong, a passive tense generally employed by those under eleven, as in "A fishing line got up in a tree somehow," or "A lot of milk got on the floor in the living room." Also: "Nick (or Sarah or Pete) is crying because his tooth got knocked out."
3) The guests will be divided between those who only eat hotdogs and other grilled meats, and vegetarians (or a whole tribe thereof), who will decline the potato salad because the potatos (bought at the SuperValue down the road from the lake) weren't organic, were they?
4) One must brace oneself for bewildering leaps in intellectual growth from other people's children. Conversations of this nature are common:
Cousin Firk: "So how's Denise doing these days?"
You: "Oh, all right. She's going to repeat kindergarten, but we're thinking about it as an learning opportunity. How's Beatrice?"
Cousin Firk: "Oh, you know Beatrice! The Principal told us that her teachers unanimously agreed that she simply must jump another grade. We would be concerned about whether she would fit in with the older age group, but ever since she was elected head of the model UN at seven years old, we've never worried about Beatrice socially. She's the most popular in the class!"
5) Men will set up the barbeque "area" away from anywhere children might congregate, perhaps behind the garage. If by chance a child wanders into that area, they will be quickly ushered away by a large man in shorts, sitting in a lawn chair. Your child will later tell you, solemnly, that the place behind the garage was a "child-free zone" and that Uncle Zack was just making sure that no one got hurt.
OK, guys, add your own rules!! Don't tell me family reunion agony is suffered in my family alone...
The Summer Family Reunion
My mother really loves family reunions, so this is about the 65th in my life (and no, I'm not that old yet). We all gather at a lake in northern Minnesota -- which is where all good Minnesotans go, like lemmings, every summer. Lakes abound, and so do people talking about the best place to buy worms, if that gives you a sense of it.
Uncles, aunts, cousins and my own family flood in. I have three siblings, each of whom has reproduced, so the number of attendees under ten is significant. They swim naked and scare each other with stories about leaches. People lucky enough to be older than ten sit around talking about our jobs (everything from public service to writing literature to giving out mortgages), eating, cooking and eating some more.
For dinner we put up a long long table on the screened-in porch, light a lot of candles, open a number of bottles of wine, and banish all the rugrats upstairs to watch a movie. Conversation ranges from "that was the year I was lent out to the State Department," to "My favorite reality show was Wife Swap -- no, it isn't what you think!" (this in response to raised eyebrows from those of us who aren't exactly reality-show-knowledgeable).
Over the years, I've noticed a number of recurring events. I bet you all can add a few:
1). At some point, a man will wander by as you wrestle at the sink and remark: "You'll never be able to wash a pot that large in such a small sink." Need I mention that he will continue on, affectionately nursing his beer?
2) Many things will "get" into places they don't belong, a passive tense generally employed by those under eleven, as in "A fishing line got up in a tree somehow," or "A lot of milk got on the floor in the living room." Also: "Nick (or Sarah or Pete) is crying because his tooth got knocked out."
3) The guests will be divided between those who only eat hotdogs and other grilled meats, and vegetarians (or a whole tribe thereof), who will decline the potato salad because the potatos (bought at the SuperValue down the road from the lake) weren't organic, were they?
4) One must brace oneself for bewildering leaps in intellectual growth from other people's children. Conversations of this nature are common:
Cousin Firk: "So how's Denise doing these days?"
You: "Oh, all right. She's going to repeat kindergarten, but we're thinking about it as an learning opportunity. How's Beatrice?"
Cousin Firk: "Oh, you know Beatrice! The Principal told us that her teachers unanimously agreed that she simply must jump another grade. We would be concerned about whether she would fit in with the older age group, but ever since she was elected head of the model UN at seven years old, we've never worried about Beatrice socially. She's the most popular in the class!"
5) Men will set up the barbeque "area" away from anywhere children might congregate, perhaps behind the garage. If by chance a child wanders into that area, they will be quickly ushered away by a large man in shorts, sitting in a lawn chair. Your child will later tell you, solemnly, that the place behind the garage was a "child-free zone" and that Uncle Zack was just making sure that no one got hurt.
OK, guys, add your own rules!! Don't tell me family reunion agony is suffered in my family alone...
Eloisa James, 2:17 AM
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