This is what it looks like when an aunt and an uncle who live in Norway and only come home every year or two step off an airplane for two weeks of unadulterated fun with family:
They will find a whole mob of large and small people ready to pounce on them and kiss them and listen to “oh my word, you’re so big” a million times as their aunt and uncle readjust to seeing them after so so long. Then they will take off down the ramp, children hanging from their arms, as they head out into a night warmer than any night in beautiful Norway. They will breath a sigh of relief as they pull into the cottage driveway and know that they are home. Home.
There will be pizzas made by the dads while the mom’s clean up prep dishes and finish sentences for the first time in forever. They will be gobbled up quickly by children so hungry they resemble a pack of hungry wolves, still just long enough for a prayer and then digging in, famished from hours of tennis and trampoline jumping and conquering the waves.
There will be time spent on the beach, all dressed alike, trying to get a few shots in before the storm rolls across the lake and puts an end to our yard camping plans. There will be this silly cousin who will be her usual stinker self and need to be put back in the pictures and told to stand still, dang it, we are working against the clock. Who invited her anyway?
There will be this amazing nana and this amazing papa who will stand proudly with their thirteen grands and will think, life just doesn’t get any better than this. Seriously. It doesn’t. Their 10 adult children will agree. It doesn’t.
Is there anything better in the world than sisters? Yes, sisters with chocolate sitting on beach chairs finishing sentences while children romp in the sand.
Maybe this. 25 of the people I love most in this world, wearing each others clothes, not complaining about collars since they’ve been warned for days it was coming and with pizza breath, standing together on this beach they love at the end of the first week of together.
And now we’re off to this place, where we will pretend to be organic farmers while living in luxurious tents and learning how to milk goats while keeping Lucy and Viv from doing dastardly things to the garden. Glamping with the family with Trader Joes and Ikea thrown in for good measure. Doesn’t get any better than this.
This is me being real. And very nearly overwhelmed by how much I’m blessed by this family and a million other large and small gifts I’ve been given. So blessed.