Thank God for other people's families.

I went to the best family reunion a week ago. No, it wasn't my family or even my husband's family...it was my dearest friend's family. I only got invited because I was taking care of her kids for a couple of days and the reunion was where I was to return them. Thank God for that! It was a riot. First of all let me tell you that it was a huge Italian family reunion. When I walked in with my two blond children I knew that we weren't in Kansas anymore. There was a lot of dark hair and black eyeliner. A woman about my age came up to me with a bunch of name tags and instructed me not only to put my name on it but what my connection to the family was. Then she looked me up and down and walked away shaking her head. Yep. There was no doubt that I was not one of them. The rest of the night people kept looking for my name-tag so they could see what the hell my connection was but I never put the stupid thing on. I mean, we all know how I feel about name tags!

Luckily, my friend found me right away. After she hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks she said, "Did you get something to drink yet?" and led me off to the bar. Now, this reunion was being held in the American Legion Hall and the cute little American Legion guys were manning the bar (which was a cash bar, by the way). However, my friend walked me right past the bar to a table set up in the corner with (I'm not kidding you) 45 bottles of wine on it and cases of wine on the floor to replenish the bottles when they were empty. I'm sure her father provided all the wine he thought his huge Italian family could drink because he's a wine importer. I don't think the American Legion guys did much but open cans of Sprite all night for the kids. The funny thing was, the men at the reunion would go pour themselves a free glass of wine and then go sit at the bar and talk to the bartenders. I'm telling you, this was the friendliest bunch of people! The bartenders didn't seem to mind at all because whenever some kid came up for a can of pop their parents would tip them $5 or so.

Anyway, once I had a glass of wine in my hand my friend led me around so I could say hello to everyone. I have been at a lot of her family parties, so I knew a fair amount of people, which meant I was in for a lot of hugging and kissing. Now, you need to keep in mind that I am SOOOO not a huggy-kissy kind of gal. I don't really like superfluous touching of any kind. No massages, or manicures or pedicures for me. When I get my hair cut I tell the shampoo lady that I will tip her two bucks if she does the regular wash, condition and scalp massage thing, but I will tip her five bucks if she can manage to wash and condition my hair without making contact with my scalp at all. At church after we sing the first hymn we always have that moment where we greet others with a handshake or whatever. You know what I mean...everyone turns to whoever is sitting next to them or behind them and shakes their hand or gives them a little embrace. I hate that part of the service. When we get to the last verse of the hymn we are singing right before that greeting time I get such a stomach ache. Sometimes I just grin and bear it, but lots of times I leave and go to the bathroom and come back AFTER the touching is over.

So, my friend is taking me around to all the people I sort-of know and some that I don't know at all and they all give me the double cheek kiss as a greeting. My family is not huggy-kissy either. If I would have been at my family reunion everyone would have been huddled together with their immediate family not talking to anyone else in the room. AND, if anyone approached our little family group my mother would probably warn us not to tell them anything. My family is very clannish and private and they all want to make the others believe they haven't got any problems at all. On the other hand at this family reunion I heard one woman saying to someone else, "Why does my son always pick the crazies? The last girl he dated was horrible and this one...pah! She dresses like that to go to HIS family's reunion?" Then the woman she was talking to said, "I heard she's bi polar and that she kicked her lawyer husband out of the house when she met your son. Who does that?"

Once I got done with the meet and greet with all the kissing and stuff I needed more wine. LOTS more wine. That's where I ran into my friend's father who hugged and kissed me (which was actually OK with me because he's such a big teddy bear of a guy it seems natural) and then asked me, "Did you eat?" I told him I was going to go eat as soon as I got more wine and he said, "Good. Good." Then someone else came up to him to say hello and he kissed them and asked, "Did you eat?" When my husband finally arrived (he was at a meeting and had to meet me and the kids there later) he said hello to my friend's father who shook his hand and asked, "Did you eat?" (By the way, my husband's name is Tony. He is a blond Iowa boy, but every time I would say something to someone about my husband Tony they would hopefully say, "Oh! Tony...is he Italian?" Then they would meet him and they would look down, shake their heads and wonder why his name was Tony. What a tease!)

The food was unbelievable. Pizzas, pastas, meatballs, chicken, Italian beef and sausage and peppers...I could go on and on. The sweets table was as big as the regular food table. It was like eating at the enchanted Italian castle too because no matter how many people went through the food line the dishes of food were always full! Remember that when I was growing up my mother never kept extra food in the house. To this day she goes to the grocery store every day to get what she needs for the day. For dinner, there was only enough for our family to eat...nothing extra and no second helpings. So, to be at this incredible buffet was almost more than I could handle. I had EVERYTHING. Then I went and sat down at one of the tables to enjoy this 15 pound plate of food. Well, the place I sat was the perfect place to see and hear people when they entered the room and saw someone they knew. I never heard the phrase, "How you doin' ?" so many times. The first time I heard someone say it I laughed because it's such a stereotype of Italian guys. However, after hearing it upwards of 50 times in a half-hour I no longer believe it to be a stereotype. It is a fact. Italian guys always greet each other with, "How you doin' ?"

After eating I looked around and didn't see my friend or my kids or anyone I knew, so I walked outside thinking they might be out there since my friend smokes and this was a non-smoking building. Well, it turns out that most of the reunion was now taking place in the parking lot. I'm telling you, there were people with coolers full of booze in their trunks. One guy was passing out cigars. The kids were running around playing. Someone had set up a beanbag toss game. Everyone (except the kids) was smoking. It was hilarious. I ran into my friend's sister who said, "I have a lot of friends who live around here. I already told them if they see a bunch of people hanging around wearing black not to worry because it's just my family reunion." At one point the DJ sent someone from the American Legion outside to beg people to come in and dance because there were only two kids on the dance floor and the only other people in the room were the 96 year old gramma and a few people who literally couldn't walk.

Right before we (reluctantly) left, everyone did come inside and sing Happy Birthday to the 96 year old gramma who they all call NaNa. (I always say it wrong and it infuriates my friend. I say NaNa like it rhymes with banana and it's really pronounced Nah-Nah. Honest to God, I have known these people for 15 years and I just can't seem to ever say it right. She also gets pissed at me when I try to say the word "ricotta" (as in cheese). I have to constantly remind her that I'm Irish!) So 200 people are singing Happy Birthday to this woman and she starts to cry. She's not even my NaNa and I started to cry (It's because I'm Irish. The never-ending glass of wine didn't hurt either). It was just beautiful. She was so touched. And this woman is not some feeble little 96 year old either. She is sharp as a tack. I felt so lucky to be there and see this! Too bad it wasn't my family...