One Big Happy

When we first mentioned to Dad that we'd be coming down to GA to meet the baby, Dad realized that getting our entire family together again like this would probably take some cosmic alignment-of-the-planets, and he started brainstorming about a VonTrapp-esque event.

A few emails back and forth with song lists, chord charts, and sheet music -- and suddenly, there we were on Sunday afternoon at the church, rehearsing for our grand family-debut.



It is a requirement for the incoming spouses of our family that you must (a) be able to sing, or in the alternative, (b) at least be prepared to stand on a stage and look like you are singing. A tall order, we know, but it could be worse. For instance, we could really be into Riverdance....


From left to right: Kristin (brother Matt's fiancee and just now realizing the depth of our delightful craziness. Glad to have you, dear!), Mandy (mom to the utter cuteness in the prior post and Jon's wife -- Jon leads worship for their church, too, so she's used to this), Chris (youngest brother who is TOO funny and therefore not allowed to sit next to me on stage anymore because we will disrupt the service with our muffled laughter), me, and Steven (who got out of singing by choosing to play guitar).

Meanwhile, my brother Matt played drums and my brother Jon played bass.



We're a regular performing family! We're like the Jackson 5, circa 1970, minus the big hair!



We even cajoled Mom into joining the fun! (Aren't my parents the cutest? Sitting on the piano bench together? Everybody now.... Awwwwww!)



Dad, or as we lovingly call him - the Reverend - played lead piano and tried to keep us all singing the same verse of the same song.



Seeing my brother Matt makes me want to go back to being a blonde. I'm considering it, except I don't know how to describe this shade to the colorist -- Honey? Wheat? Straw? Brother?



After the service, we made the obligatory trek to IHOP, where all good Baptists go to discuss the Sunday evening service and to partake of one of God's great gifts to all mankind: French Toast.

I'm really not sure what Chris and Dad are up to here, but it involved some sort of strange sign language and tapping on your nose. (I told you we are all a wee bit odd...)



Mandy and Jon even brought the Babe out to our late-nite-o-pancakes.



Someone asked Steven when Riley could expect to have a cousin from the Steele family...and this says it all:



We laughed, we ate, we generally caused a ruckus at the House of Pancakes.



Poor Matt had a rough go of it and couldn't join us -- the keys to his car had fallen out of his pocket and he was trying to figure out how they'd get back up to Greenville, SC sans car keys. On our way back from IHOP, we stopped by the church for one last ditch attempt to find the keys. We turned our cars to shine our headlights on the parking spot where Mom had parked that morning, and lo and behold -- Chris found the keys! We brought the keys back to Matt and Kristin, and much jubilation ensued.

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The next morning, we made one last stop before heading out of town and back to the grind. Dad moved into a new corner office, and we couldn't leave without seeing his new digs.



Lookin' good, Pops, lookin' good.



Shameless plug: http://www.huff-cpa.com/ Go check him out. :)

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About 5 or 6 hours into the drive back, we started to notice signs that we might be nearing the Northern Virginia area.



Yep, we're getting closer...



And just so you don't think I spent this whole weekend without any yarn in hand, I did manage to get a goodly portion of my Monkey Socks started on the drive home. This is Socks that Rock Heavyweight in Crazy Lace Agate. I love them.



And now back to your regularly scheduled dogs, knits, cookies, and court appearances. Thanks for a fabulous weekend, family!