Why do I love my family?

I love my family for a lot of little things.

I love that we make each other laugh so hard, we cry, or at least give ourselves sore stomachs. It's the worst when my brother and my cousins and I get together, because inevitably someone says something so wrong, it's utterly hilarious. Like when my crazy great-aunt gave my dad and my cousin-in-law black gloves for Christmas, my brother quipped, "I think OJ has a pair just like it."

I love (and occasionally do not love) when old incidents come back to haunt. "Have you shut your ear in a car door lately?" might get the response, "Did you hit yourself in the face with a boot this week?" (Yes, the former happened to me. I was present for the latter but not responsible.)

I love watching the family deal with said great-aunt when she's refusing to leave a tip at a restaurant because she doesn't think she has to, or when she's telling the gas explosion story for the 80th time, or when she straps on the fanny pack to go to Christmas Eve service but won't put in her hearing aid. If ever there is a family bonding moment, it is usually over the requisite black sheep and the fact that social mores and expectations have COMPLETELY passed her by, quite with her assistance.

I love sitting at the kids' table, even though I'm almost 34, listening to the guys dissect the stuffing. (I love that my cousin-in-law has started to really show his 'silly side' now that he knows us better, because he's hilarious.)

I love being at the age where somebody will slip a little bottle of Absolut Rasberri in my stocking.

I love sitting around the table playing Apples to Apples with every generation, although the baby (at age 2) has no idea what's going on, but when you ask her who's cute, she points to herself - and her sassy new pink cowboy boots.

I love how the baby turns my uncle into a big teddy bear. I love being Aunt LaLa, even if I don't always know what to say to her.

I love that nobody pressures me to get married or have kids, although my grandmother once wondered what I would offer a nice young man when I got married, if I couldn't cook.

I love playing games. We love board games and card games and Numerica (a number order game, at which I suck mightily, but I more than make up for that at Buzz Word). The day after Christmas is almost exclusively reserved for board games and snacks like puppy chow and caramel corn and cookies.

I love how we buy Christmas gifts for each other's pets.

I love how we take zillions of pictures and then mail them to each other throughout January. Actually, we do this all year long. If there's a family event, expect a camera. There is no 'shy' with the family.

I love how we welcome new people in with open arms, including significant others. We have been known to overwhelm new family members, especially at Christmas, with our all-day present opening tradition. More than once I've heard a departing spouse or fiance(e) say as they leave for their parents' house, "I want to stay here, you guys are so much fun!"

Well, yes, yes we are. Black sheep included.