Today at lunch, I was absolutely overwhelmed with the dynamics of the meal. All the kids are back home now, so we have five people sitting at the table. It's noisy. It's fun. It's probably a sociologist's nightmare . . .. :). So, in the hour we spent sitting there, we covered "Chucky" movies, vampire-staking toddlers, the size of King Kong's . . . . manly part, as they say, how much alcohol it takes to get drunk and how to recognize when you've gotten there (we don't drink, other than J's occasional beer or glass of wine, but J and I have memories), the origin of the idiom "the exception that proves the rule" (which then sparked Coryn, Nicole and I to sing lines from "You are the Only Exception" by Paramour) the whoooshing sound that a line in a play determined was the sound of angels overhead, and why there are so many spiders in the garden this year--oh, and even took a moment of quiet sadness in honor of a dear friend who lost their family dog today. In the midst of it all, I was attempting to establish the timeline for the afternoon of who needed to go where and when and what order we would do them in. Yeah, I gave up. Not in frustration or irritation. I gave up because I was laughing too hard.
I love, love, love being part of this family. Welcome to the Orr House.