game of things.

The holidays seem to present a huge down curve in the blog world, or at least for my blog. I'm not a big blog follower; I have my friends' and a few randos that I track, but I write only because I like to write. This past month has been absolute mayhem in my world, but I'm happy to report that I'm still afloat and even bobbing a bit . . . whatever that means. I was fortunate enough to spend my Christmas with my mom's family, something I know many people weren't able to do this year. My family is anything but dull. Where there's an open arm, a hug fits. Where there's quiet time, a fart falls in its place. This couldn't have been more evident than on Saturday night when my family was playing a game called Things. OK, I love to laugh, like LOVE to laugh, but I haven't laughed this hard in awhile.

Picture this: My mom, stepdad, brother A, brother B + 1 girlfriend and my grandparents all in the living room huddled around the coffee table. The family dog, Duke, who had found refuge in my company all weekend (bless his heart he misses Maddie dog), was sprawled out across my lap. The game goes like this: A reader poses a statement and each person provides an answer, then you go around the circle and try to guess who said what. It's. Completely. Ridiculous . . . at least when you involve the filthily incredulous minds of my family. Here's a sample of what we came up with:

Q: Name things you should not do on an airplane.
A: Fart
A: Fart and say "What a relief!"
A: Ask to borrow someone's chapstick
A: Make love overtly

Q: Name something that needs to be cleaned.
A: Brother A's underpants
A: Duke's bowels
A: The White House
A: Our minds

Q: Name things you call your significant other.
A: Bubbles
A: Numb nuts
A: Please
A: Sugarpants

Q: Name things you should not do when you're naked.
A: Eat a burrito then sprint
A: Case links of sausage
A: Jumping Jacks
A: Apologize

Q: Name what you'd do if you had super powers.
A: Rearrange city buildings
A: Travel to the 1970's
A: Fly
A: Fart sparkles

You get the point.

It's not everyday that I hear my grandpa say you shouldn't make love overtly on an airplane or that you shouldn't do jumping jacks while naked, says my grandma. Nor is it everyday that you picture a naked person eating a burrito then running a hundred meter dash. By the end of the night I was rolling on the ground laughing and had done about a week's worth of ab exercises.

As one can only imagine, getting on that plane to fly home yesterday was about the most difficult thing I've had to do in at least three months.