In-laws are great.
For a only-child (which I’m not exactly, but I was for my formative years) being in the middle of a huge family for a few days is an interesting change.
I feel the never-to-be mentioned Love. it is the Midwest after all, none of that hippy openness crap here.
But it’s there, in the wise cracks and in the line up for food at dinner. And in the helping with the dishes. Also the dousing with water guns and hoses.
We also took the kids out to the local high school field (vast by urban standards) and launched a rocket a few times. Dylan loved it, so enthusiastic that he launched on “5″, of the 5 second countdown… But then we hung out, a bunch of Vossens and “outlaws” sitting on the field and getting sun-burnt.
While sometimes being on the outside of the clan means that some of the discussion isn’t entirely germane to those of us who weren’t there [when the boot missed Alvin's head and dented the corner strip], it doesn’t matter. My wife is being with her kin and happy, so I’ll sit back and and float in the river of unspoken love with a drink in hand.
Time well spent.
