re·form: (r-fôrm) v. re·formed, re·form·ing, re·forms v. tr. 1. To improve by alteration, correction of error, or removal of defects; put into a better form or condition. 2. To cause (a person) to give up harmful or immoral practices; persuade to adopt a better way of life.
ma·ma or mam·ma also mom·ma: n. (also m-mä) Informal. Mother.


Well Color Me Surprised.

Dad did actually show up tonight for dinner. HOLY SMOKES!

We all went to my uncle's house earlier today for a lunch for Grandma's 75th birthday. Before I get into that though, let me explain a little about Geneva.

See, because of my family and because of my personality, I really am NOT a touchy feely kind of person -- AT ALL. I also don't think I am very dramatic. I like things nice and even and quiet and simple. Over dramatizing something or freaking out over small things is just NOT my style.

Uhhh... Geneva is just the opposite. Imagine that. The first time I met her (one of the times shortly after Mom left when I had to track Dad down for the rent money) she gave me a huge hug and called me "Baby Love." I know she probably meant well, but I felt like saying, "No, I am not a baby and I don't know you so back off with the love stuff."

Geneva also tends to make up cutsie little names for people. When I did see (what like 2 times) when I was in college, she called me "Bubble Butt." Now I know that my butt is not exactly small in proportion to the rest of me, but she surely was NOT racking up any brownie points with THAT name.

I think you get the idea about Geneva's personality though.

At Grandma's party today I was in the back room nursing Eddie (because don't you know that it's a bad thing to nurse very discreetly in public) when Dad and Gee showed up. Instantly I had to bite my tongue. I could hear her through the walls with, "Ohhhh... There's my most favorite brother-in-law," and "Ohhhh my goodness gwascious, Kerri, you're all grown up now," and "Where's that cute little Eddie, I can't wait to just gobble him up." (Imagine all that said in the most syruppy, sappy voice possible.)

I couldn't hide in the back room all day, so I decided to just get it over with and go out and greet my dad and his wife.

"Theeeerre she issss. Come here darlin'." Geneva called.

I replied as flatly as possible but with a smile, "Hi."

"Ooooooohhhh, isn't he just the most beautiful baby you've ever seen. Come here to Grandma and let me see you."

"He's really tired, so he will probably fuss," at least I was hoping he would fuss. I didn't want him getting the smell of cigarette smoke all over him.

"Oh no, he wouldn't fuss at his gwandma..."

And he didn't fuss. Sigh.

By that time dad had walked into the room. Man, dad looks rough. Toooooooooo much time in the sun.

People with German-Irish heritage, like dad, should NOT live in FL and if they do, they certainly should NOT spend much time outside. Dad has had skin cancer spots removed before, but he has tons of them on his arms again.

You know how in the Bible those without Christ are described as dead men walking? That's what my dad looks like. The effects sin has had on his life are so painfully obvious. The same is true of my mom and brothers as well. In that respect my heart truly breaks for them.

Anyway... Tonight Dad and Gee came over for dinner -- along with Grandma. It was a nice visit. I showed Dad and Gee pictures from my wedding that they didn't come too. (unfortunately, I too can hold a grudge). Grandma, who walked me down the aisle since none of my immediate family was there, made sure to say several times that my dad missed out and that he should have been there.

Grandma is a feisty one who does not hold back.

Dad said he wanted to come. I felt like calling him out on that one -- especially since Geneva's nephew (the guy who got hitched this weekend) is 40 and just started his fourth wedding.

I held my tongue though. Thats a first.

We all survived the day. So that's a good thing.


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