Updates: My son and his wife who were stationed in Texas have been transferred to Illinois, and just gave TWO more grandsons to us. Our cup runneth over and I happily slurp up every juicy drop of the sweet nectar of our blessings. I know that good times don’t last forever–nor, thankfully, do bad times–so I’ve learned to make the most of good times while they’re here.
This is a repost that has been updated for newer friends.
Picture if you will all the noise and people during rush hour in Grand Central Station, the commotion and energy of a busy dog park, the love and joy of a raucous religious revival, the laughter and entertainment of a circus, and a meal fit for a king but large enough to feed an army, and you begin to have some idea as to what it is like to be at our house on most Sunday nights.
That’s because we celebrate Family Night on Sundays, and all of the above is usually generated by just my immediate family. And our dogs. Six dogs.
It’s also a bit like a mini United Nations (without all the rancor, bickering, and squabbling) as my immediate family represents races from three continents–-four if you count my nephew and his family who…
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