Outlaws

I have heard the usual complaints about in-laws.  Some of the stories my friends have told me about their horrific in-laws have made my jaw drop and my hair stand on end.  I am insanely happy to report that I cannot "relate."  I don't have any in-law horror stories to recount.  I could complain about toilet seats being left up or about all of my homemade cookies being consumed during a late night card game, but those would truly be half-hearted complaints.

Before my husband and I were married, I already felt like I fit into the Carson clan, and now when we are making plans to get the gang together, I get all bubbly and excited inside because it's fun for an only child to be a part of a big family.  When Paw Paw and Uncle David visit, our girl-dominated family dynamic gets turned on its head.  There is less drama and more flatulence.  Practical jokes are played.  Rude pictures are scribbled at the dinner table.  Card games (accompanied by colorful phraseology) are played at all hours.  The grown-ups act a little more like kids, and the kids don't seem to mind.

When we get together insults and terms of endearment are difficult to distinguish.  Whether Paw Paw is shouting, "You lousy, low brow!" or Uncle David is squealing, "Quit bein' so OLD, Dad!"  It's all love, and we all know it.  Knowing that you are loved just the way you are is rather wonderful.  When Paw Paw accompanies my kitchen-dancing with an improvised ukulele performance, it's his way of saying, "Hey, I like your kind of crazy.  In fact, young lady, you are speaking my language."

Of course we are not perfect, but no one pretends to be perfect either.  No one passive aggressively comments on my "creative" parenting techniques or suggests that my tuna casserole isn't like the kind Granny used to make.  We just love each other, warts and all.  And we say it... out loud (right after we hurl a playful insult).  I love you Carsons and feel so blessed to be a part of the cacophonous and unruly pastiche of personalities that is our family.