I've overdosed on extended family, I think. Got some sort of mystical hangover that's got me tired, muddled, no appetite, and kind of dazed.
We had a houseguest last week, the hard kind, the draining kind, the kind you try to please but for the life of you cannot. Like bad bratwurst, it leaves a nasty, burpy hot-taste in the inner person, one that takes a while to belch away. Sleep it off, yeah, that would be great, but wait, there's more.
Add a day trip reunion to the other side of Extended Family Avenue which was illuminating in many ways, and even enjoyable in parts. The babies and toddlers easily conquered the adults, ruling with chubby iron fists. Let's put it this way, 'grown-up' conversation never showed up. Oh well. It's just a phase.
Family can be easy, it can be hard, but it always teaches. About life. About others. About ourselves. It's worth the time to participate now and then.
As far as Bratwurst? One last, deep belch and it's so over.
Roll on, July!