While I've touched on the whole East coast/West coast thing, there's an entire realm that hasn't been brought into the equation: No coast. Sam is from the Midwest. The. Midwest. It's not surprising. He has that certain wholesome quality that people from the Midwest possess. It's very charming to someone like myself. Something about being from a state bordered by the ocean brings out a different quality in people. Some may call it "pretentious". I prefer "discerning" or something of that nature. Something mildly positive.
Anyway, I was tasked with meeting a million members of his enormous family. This stressed me out for several reasons: (1) I suck at groups, (2) I suck at small talk, (3) I suck at interacting with small children (there were going to be many), (4) I'm from the West coast, and you know how those people are, and (5) just the general fear that they would all hate me and Sam would decide that he hated me too and I would end up banished from the campfire ring, lost in some cornfield, trying to figure out where the Chicago airport was.
While it would be much more interesting if something like that did happen, I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you. As far as I know, nobody from the Grant clan hates me. They seemed to like me. They were friendly and welcoming and all the things good people from the Midwest are. All the kids were running around with swords, the leaves were changing, beer was consumed in epic amounts, and I didn't do anything particularly embarrassing. In fact, as stated yesterday, I held a baby.
This was a pretty big deal. I feel like babies are similar to dogs as indicators of character. If the baby/dog doesn't like you, it means there is something inherently wrong with your soul and you may in fact be evil. So, this was something I was pretty worried about. The Grant family watching me and thinking, Hmmmmm, Rachel repels children. Get out the wooden stake.
I should preface this by explaining that I'm not a baby person. They are terrifying. The only other baby I have had any experience with was a girl named Ayla and I would sit and talk to her like she was a tiny therapist, explaining how my day was going and what I ate for lunch. Probably a total bummer. I don't hold babies. When I was very young, I tried and dropped it and I have avoided the experience ever since. So it was kind of stretch for me to do the baby thing and make my voice high and wave my hands around and smile a lot. These things don't come naturally.
On the second day, we were hanging out around the picnic table and Sam's mom suggested that I try to hold Evelyn. Put out your hands and see if she comes to you! Moment of truth. I put out my hands, fearing the worst, and then she put out her hands and suddenly I was holding a baby. And she smiled and didn't cry the entire time. Sam took photos which will show how extremely awkward I was, but that's okay. It was a little miracle and sometimes those things have to be documented. We became friends and by the end of the trip she was telling me stories in her made-up language and laughing at them hysterically. I feel like I am slightly better at life now.
2 comments:
hah! tiny therapist.
We still need to see proof that this actually happened.
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