This is my family.
Thanksgiving. It’s a holiday without any pretense. No gifts, no expectations. No church (or arguments about whether everyone should go to church.) Just a Griswold family gathering with football and feasting (or in my case of the crazy Italians, foosball).
Papa has a broken foot – that one from the downstairs bar and an intense game of kick-the-ball with the boys. (Sorry Dad.) So he limped around with a walking stick while wearing black socks with sandals (I do not know why these events need to be related). Continue reading
Grab your towels and hang on tight folks.
The muppets and I headed south for a last minute vacation to my childhood home. (Ideally for some relaxation – for mommy anyway, since Search would undoubtedly deposit himself in GrammaJ’s lap for the duration and Destroy would…well destroy things.)
It’s in the mid-90s weather wise. My brother lives on the beach. I put these two nuggets of wisdom together and thought, “You know what seems like a good idea?! Let’s take the boys on their very first beach trip.” Continue reading