Back to My Roots

I come from a very large Italian family…on both sides. My paternal grandmother (Dot) was #1 of eleven children (my maternal grandmother is #2 of 13, but that’s another reunion for another day). Her family has a reunion every year and although she’s no longer with us (and I still miss her all of the time), it’s nice to get together and visit with her/my family who I don’t see as often as I used to. There are a whole lot of them and I sometimes feel like I need a guide book (like the kind you get at the zoo: This is a Smith. This is a Jones. He’s married to a Jones. etc.) It’s also nice to remember where you came from in order to appreciate where you are now.

Where do I come from? A loooong line of hicks. And I use that as a term of endearment. We enjoy roasting a pig for a family reunion (and the occasional wedding reception), playing cards (which I’ll talk about more later), drinkin’ beer from a Dixie cup (preferably while roasting a pig and playing cards) and we’re not exactly, uh, familiar with current technology. Case in point: During the reunion someone misplaced a communication device. Someone at the front of the pavilion yelled: “Did anyone lose a Bluetooth?” From the back came: “What color was the tooth?” Sadly, they weren’t kiddin’.

The boys had a blast playing the children’s games, although they came in last every.single.time. They aren’t exactly competitive with other kids; only with each other. Also, they have my coordination (or lack thereof). Poor kids. Baby Girl got to play with a balloon (magic!) for most of the afternoon, and Youngest Boy only cared about finding another “squirt” balloon so he could try to drench his brother.

You're supposed to hold the balloon between your legs and run.

You'll notice there are no other kids around. And there aren't any behind them, either.

The "squirt" balloon toss. Out on the first throw...

The most hilarious thing was when Baby Girl spotted a Siberian husky dog and started shouting, “Cow! Cow! MOOOO!” Oh, well. We’re working on animal identification. Anything with four legs is a cow. Unless it’s pink. Then it’s a pig. I think she gets this from my mother. On the way to the reunion we passed a farm and Oldest Boy asked, "What are those?" My mom, "Beagles!" They were goats. {SIGH}


Back to playing cards. I love playing cards. By the time I was four years old, I could identify the four suits. By the time I was no older than eight, I could play. And I’m not talking Old Maid or Go Fish,either. I’m talking gin rummy, thirteen, and the mother of all games in our family: euchre. Boy, do I miss it. I enjoy it so much that I’ll play pretty much anytime, anywhere. We used to play a lot in college and I once taught my husband how to play. We just have one rule in the family: You cannot be partners with your spouse. Ever. Divorces have happened from games of euchre:
You trumped my ace?!?! File the papers!
We got skunked?!?! Call my lawyer!
Seriously.
I was really looking forward to getting in a game or two at the reunion. There was a deck of cards on every table. I just forgot one thing. I have children! There was not a single second where I sat down the whole entire time! Thankfully, my parents were there, but still.

And now, I’m itchin’ for a game. Please. Uncle Mark and Aunt Carolyn, can you con your kids into entertaining mine for a couple of hours so we can play? You name the time and place. I’m there. I just have to bring along the young’uns!