The Family Reunion

I hate family reunions. HATE THEM!! I only feel obligated because of Mom. I know I'll be in a pickle if I don't go.

"Are you going with me?" I asked Shawn.

He whined about not knowing anyone, but the truth is, he became adicted to a video game the night before.

"I'm not staying long!" I said. "I know Dad won't," I offered.

"You're Dad's Going?" Shawn asked.

"It's his family!"

"But isn't there a big race on today?" Shawn and Dad are like two peas in a pod as long as NASCAR is on. Or pretty much anything that involves the possibility of machinery catching fire.

So I went alone. With Mom and Dad, of course.

And I didn't know a soul. Ok, well actually there was on of Dad's brothers and his family who I've met three times in my life, once being at a funeral.

And I don't care how many times you get asked, "Are you mariied?" or "So what do you do?" or "You got kids?" It really doesn't matter because NO ONE CARES if you are married and what your crappy job is. It's merely just an awkward way to start a conversation that GOES NOWHERE.

And look around...it's like every other reunion I've ever been to. Each little group sits in their own little clique, which is not really a clique at all, just people they know. And people do not dare venture from their safe table, God forbid they meet someone new.

Of course, I am exactly the same way. I don't want to meet anyone new. Don't get me wrong. I don't have anything against these people. No, no. But's it's about the same as being dragged in to a hall with a bunch of strangers you're probably never ging to see again for the rest of your entire life.

Or at least another 10 years. Or, the next funeral. And who want to chat it up there?