On belonging to a family.
- Being part of a family means that sometimes, people use your favourite mug. Just to drive you nuts. Not only do they use it… they come into your room and slurp their coffee from it right in front of you. It couldn’t be like, a secret thing that they do, and feel a secret thrill. No. They are definitely doing it to make you go insane.
- Being part of a family means that your sister has your pillowcase. Your sheet set came with all the required sheets and two matching pillow cases. For some reason, she has one of them, which leaves you with an awkwardly mismatched pillow.
- Being part of a family means existing with a group of people of all different ages, experiences, and jobs. Conversations are interesting, and your mother might be led to say, “Jasmine, why do you bring up things like that? We do want Wendy to have some semblance of a normal childhood.”
- Being part of a family means having people laugh at you when you are angry or grumpy, and sometimes, you realize how ridiculous you are being and laugh too, and other times, you sink deeper into your angriness or grumpiness.
- Being part of a family means three females all wanting to use the sewing machine/serger at the same time.
- Being part of a family means your brother having a secret recipe for peanut butter squares that he has so deeply engrained in your mind as “secret” that even when you steal the paper and could look at it, you can’t bring yourself to do it. Because it’s a secret, and you like that your brother makes peanut butter squares and even uses a double boiler to melt the chocolate. “Now this stuff- this is the stuff that really thickens it.” -Kenton
- Being part of a family means owning scarves that you’ve never worn, but your sister has.
- Being part of a family means people saying awesomely funny things, but then saying “You’re not allowed to put that on your blog, Jasmine.” So frustrating. If you’re not going to let me share it with the world, then you shouldn’t say anything at all.
- Being part of a family means discussing sewing with your father: “I seem to remember that they gathered some things in and out.” –Dad
- Being part of a family means watching movies together, and you making relationship predictions about the story line, and you say, “That guy seems nice”, and your little sister says, “Nicer than your boyfriend?????” And you say. “No. I did not say that.” Because he’s not.
- Being part of a family means one person yelling “Don’t look!” and hearing echoes of “don’t look!” called from various family members in various parts of the house.
- Being part of a family means that if one of them is going through a hard time… you all feel the burden. It’s just the way it is. And it’s almost worse to have them go through something tough than it is to actually go through it yourself.
- Being part of a family means having to do your Christmas names exchange three times before everyone has a name and doesn’t know who does or does not have their name. (It reached the point where Mom made the rule that “After you check your paper, the only thing you are allowed to say is ‘It’s not me’ to let me know that you do not have your own name.” My theory is that we should probably all chew and swallow our little name slips, to ensure that no one “accidentally” sees anyone else’s paper before Christmas.)
- Being part of a family means randomly joining your sister and mother for prayer, and reprimanding your little sister for not even praying for our family. “Oh, alright. Dear God, I pray for Jasmine and… well, I’ll just call the rest ‘home fries’.” –Wendy
I sure do like being part of this family.