Of all the things I love, and do not love, about my family, the big, heaping, strong spoonful of reality is what I love the most.
There are the little things.
"Okay, I'll run down to mom's, finish my blog, grab the spinach, and be right back to make the spinach dip," I explain to my sisters, both beautiful, sitting elegantly sipping wine in Tammy's kitchen.
"No. Get the spinach and come back here and make the spinach dip. It's an appetizer. Dinner's in an hour," Tammy knows how to give me a look that tells me she knows me so well, and that she is not going to buy what I am attempting to sell.
"What? I already started it. It will take me like ten minutes. I'll be right back." I head out the door, and before it closes behind me, Tammy says, "Shanna, don't finish your blog."
Well, in the 3 minutes it took me to walk down to my mother's house I realized she was right; it would have taken me at least another hour to write and edit my blog. Sure, I would have been satisfied with my own personal accomplishment, but I would have let my family down.
Never mind the fact that no one ate my spinach dip. I still can't figure out why my family is so anti-vegetable.
And then there is the family I chose. Well, kind of.
All day I have been shopping and prepping for a big post Thanksgiving meal. My mother's dinner was fabulous. It always is. But it was the traditional turkey, mash potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, gravy, etc. I have been compiling new Thanksgiving recipes for the last few years that have made their way into my own celebratory meal and I was looking forward to putting some perfections on already tried dishes and to trying some new ones.
I spent hundreds of dollars at Whole Foods. Not like that is a difficult thing to do; the wine, chocolate, and cheese alone cost upwards of fifty dollars. For dinner I prepared a turkey, unstuffed, baked herb apple and onion stuffing, roasted bacon brussel sprouts, crock pot cheesy potatoes, and a cranberry and mandarin orange green salad with citrus vinaigrette. All but the turkey, bacon and cheese were organic. And everything was made from scratch except the pie crust.
I was pretty proud.
I had planned on having a few people over, friends and family, and was disappointed to be stood up by people very close to me.
But the fact that our good friend Scott showed up has been a huge reality check for me. No matter what happens, Scott is always there. He specifically took the time off work, at a very busy time of the year for his business, to be here with his "family," telling his coworkers that he was "going to his brother's house for dinner."
Scott loves my husband much like a brother. They both moved to California at the same time and were new employees where they instantly became friends as food servers at Chevy's. I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that Scott will be with us for the rest of our lives. We have been through ups and downs with Scott, celebrating the ups, and comforting through the downs. He hated me for being the one Carlos chose, putting an end to Scott's hopes that Carlos might cross over to the other side. He humbled himself to me soon afterward, acknowledging my firm position in Carlos' life. He toasted us at our wedding. He was one of the few people who came to see me in the hospital after Celaya was born.
He always brings wine when he visits.
And he always makes me laugh.
As we sit here now, Carlos and Scott watching boxing (correction: Carlos is watching boxing. Scott is admiring the half naked men), me eating the perfectly tart (if I do say so myself) Lemon Merengue pie I made, my brother is looking through the front closet for something, and Scott calls over to him, "hey Teno, is my boa in there?"
"What the hell is a boa?" Teno wonders from the hall.
"You know, a boa. It's green. I think I left it here a long time ago."
"Like a snake?"
"No, it has feathers. It goes around your neck."
Teno looks at him, looks at me, and heads back down the hall toward his room, shaking his head.
Scott looks over at me. "Is that a no?"
Yes, Scott is family.
And this most recent reality check, though bittersweet, is nonetheless a great reality.
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