What else?

If you've been reading my blog this week, you might get the impression that our Michigan trip consisted solely of airplane rides. This is, of course, not the case; we did plenty of fun things in between all the plane rides. I just can't remember what they were. I think some of them might have included other members of our family, such as four little people who always look at Joe and I as if they have never seen us before. By the end of the trip, after countless parental proddings, they are finally able to point to us correctly when someone says "Where's Uncle Joe?" and "Where's Aunt Holly?" They must wonder whether we are in danger of becoming lost, as everyone is constantly inquiring as to our whereabouts. But actually this is a time-honored tradition that Adam and Eve were not able to engage in with their own children, because, of course, aunts and uncles had not yet been invented when Cain and Abel came along ("Lucky them!" our nieces and nephews are saying to themselves).

But for the little people in our own family, pointing to us from a safe distance is pretty much the extent of contact they consent to have with us. They are probably afraid that if they get too friendly with us, we will whisk them off in a plane somewhere, and they will have to sit next to Aunt Holly.

I also remember, on our trip, being in charge of dinner one night for 19 people. Since we had already done KFC one night and Chinese takeout another, it looked like our fast-food options had expired. It was time for a Home-Cooked Meal.

As I was frantically throwing together 100 pounds of ground turkey and 3,879 tablespoons of ketchup (or was that teaspoons?) for sloppy joes, family members started arriving. One family member, whom for purposes of privacy I will call 'Mom,' came into the kitchen and sat down. "Brian said I didn't have to do any work for dinner," 'Mom' said.

"Well, Brian's not in charge tonight," I told 'Mom.' "I am. Now go stir those sloppy joes, please."

Now, I know better than this. Not the part about ordering one's family member around. I mean I know better than to put 'Mom' in charge of stirring something because there is a high degree of likelihood that 'Mom' will taste it. And taste it. And taste it. With the same spoon (only with family members, of course). This is a major reason 'Mom' and I do not generally share the same kitchen together. But it had been a while, and I had forgotten this little tendency of 'Mom's.

I gave little thought to the sloppy joes after that, thinking 'Mom' had them under control, but Joe happened to notice 'Mom' bending over the pot, gleefully scooping up spoon after spoon of the sloppy joes. Thinking quickly, Joe said, "Hey, let me stir that, 'Mom.' Brian's right -- you shouldn't be doing any work." He took the spoon and deftly stepped between 'Mom' and the pot.

"What a helpful husband you have!" 'Mom' exclaimed, with a significant glance at her own husband, who shall be referred to only as 'Dad.' "How do you get him to help like that?"

Helpful in more ways than 'Mom' knows.