We had our usual Sunday dinner this past weekend, at the house. We started doing this several months ago, and I’m so glad that we did. As a child, my grandmother fixed Sunday dinners, and those meals are among my fondest memories.
It’s a perfect excuse for family and friends, to get together, and spend some quality time with one another. And I love it.
But y’all... our USUAL get togethers are anything BUT usual. It never fails; something’s going to malfunction, get burnt, fall apart or generally go wrong. Thankfully, and not unlike Charlie Brown; we’re a bunch who are all accustomed to the infamous and hovering rain cloud. And leave it to us...to actually find the humor of it all, afterwards. Obviously, we wouldn’t last in a Hallmark movie for ten minutes.
So, what all has occurred so far? Well, let’s reflect a bit. One Sunday, I backed into Dean & Joanna’s car. Another dinner was flooded, thanks to a sudden hot water heater leak. Then there was the Sunday, that I burnt the rolls. That one could’ve been much worse, had Mrs. Myrna Schilling not reminded me, that they were in the oven. I got them out, before smoke could fill the house. They weren’t too terrible...just a tad on the crunchy side; like eating a really big crouton.
Oh, and then there was the time, when one guest realized, over a meal and conversation, that another guest had actually arrested him over twenty years ago. That one was funny; I can’t even deny it, especially since they hadn’t actually...ahem...met until that day.
It’s always something. This past Sunday dinner was no exception. As most of you know, I have pets. My pets, like the rest of this clan, are far from perfect. They couldn’t last long, in a Hallmark movie either. They don’t obey, they don’t sit at command, and even after a bath...they still stink. They also like to ‘do their business’ in the driveway sometimes. Who cares, that they have a hundred acres of grass and woods? Well, honey, they don’t.
Everybody’s filling their bellies up, when two of the young’uns decided to play in the rocks. And what do you think that they picked up, that wasn’t gravel? In they come, with four little hands, stretched out to Mars, noses turned up, and (I think) fairly pleased with themselves. The funniest part of all; were the adults, debating over who was gonna help clean ‘em up. ‘Not me! You do it! No way!’
One thing’s for sure...our Sunday dinners are never boring. They’re filled with good food (maybe a burnt roll occasionally), laughter (at anybody’s expense), crazy kids, and a bit of temporary chaos. But most of all, they’re filled with what will hopefully; be cherished memories, for all. And I absolutely love it.
