See, yesterday was the mighty collision between my family and the lady’s family, in which the parents and the majority of the siblings met each other, and we all decided if this thing is going one of those odd marriages where families actually get along, or the run of the miller thing where the respective in-laws kinda stare at each other like dogs separated by a fence, both convinced that the territory is theirs, but just not able to get at each others throats on account of that thin little layer of metal.
Or something like that.
Anyway, it was the first one, apparently. Nobody got in a fight, the conversation was lively (although, ironically, me and the lady ended up getting the last seats, on the couch in the living room, away from the conversation, because there were other seats together), and apparently no feuds were started. Thats always nice, because my people come from the mountains (at least the ones that didn’t come from Canada), and I think theres some Appalachian decendancy in her family (or at least a healthy amount of Irish to go with my Scottish), and I figure if a feud were to go down, it’d probably be a good one.
But nobody wants that kind of heavy crap on their head, so its a good thing that none of it happened.
More importantly, yesterday was a Thanksgabing, being that MastaG’s birthday was the 22nd, and my little baby is now officially 11 years old. I managed to humiliate him a good three times or so telling “this time 11 years ago” stories, good times, good times.
And then, at night, everybody (except for lilsis, who stayed up here to hang out with the boys until Saturday) went home, and the lady and I were left in our clean, totally moved in and consolidated, beautiful house. With a lot of fatigue.
Still, its freakin awesome. The needful was achieved, big time, and we sat and cuddled and watched March of the Penguins on TV.
Good stuff.
Its that kinda crap that I’m thankful for. That I’ve been a dad for 11 years, because its really the thing that defines what I am and what I want to be. That I’ve found love twice, and am enjoying it as much, if not more, this time around. That everythings been working out well, the kids love it, the families are cool with it, and that she and I keep enjoying each others company more and more. That there are no hassles, or problems, or illnesses, or broken cars. That we both have excellent families, and that we’re both excited about being part of them.
Holy amazing crap, the goals have been met. The needful has been achieved.
The moving is done.
Imagine a truck. A big, yellow, muddy truck. Like maybe an old 80 Custom Deluxe with mud flaps and big ass tires. Its kinda dirty, banged up a bit, but with a bit of a gloss that indicates that the dude that owns it wants to keep it clean, but just doesn’t think it makes much sense to fix the body up, because hell, its an 80s truck, and its a work truck, and only wieners show ’80s work trucks. Its probably a faded yellow.
Now imagine it having been on your back for about 3 weeks, and then being removed.
Thats how we feel.
Now, I don’t like the general thing of thanksgiving. I mean, I like turkey, and I guess I like indians (Native Americans, please), and Pilgrims, well, I don’t like them, but thats a different post, but my point is I don’t like a holiday where you have to go around thinking about how you’re thankful. Its like having to go around and tell your employees they’re doing a good job, even if you think they’re kinda slack and could be working harder.
Point is, the point is to be thankful anyway, and I oppose the idea that on a certain arbitrary day you’re supposed to go around and be all like “wow, I’m thankful that I’m regular, and that I have a 80s custom deluxe (I don’t, but thats not the point) and that my house isn’t on a sinkhole, and that theres not a meteorite coming, and that I’m not, I dunno, lame, or something.”
Do that anyway, on a regular basis. You don’t need the man telling you what to do.
Anyway, I’m thankful that we got all the moving done. Woot!
We gave ourselves a Thanksgiving deadline, as the mighty collision between the lady’s family and mine will occur, so we’re moving my stuff in and getting the house shipshape.
So far, as the pictures Sunday indicated, phase one is going nicely.
Phase two, well… its a good thing the lady I love is an overachiever. A very cute little overachiever.