Go, Team Weird, Go!
I love being weird. And I love how weird my family is.
I love my wife snatching my hand while I’m driving to use my finger as a microphone while lip-syncing to Barbra Streisand. Or when she says to me “Chocky wocky ‘n’ pom pom?” The fact that I know exactly what she means makes it all the sweeter.
I love catching Cody and Max in their room with a jar against one of their butts to capture a fart. I love Max wearing his Halloween costumes year-round, anywhere, even when they fit him like a sausage skin because of how old they are. I love Cody’s Russian accent and his ability to debate a pretzel into thinking it’s straight.
I love Lucas randomly shouting “Salsa!” in a mock gravelly voice (we all still have no idea why), and I love him holding anything he can pick up that’s rectangular and putting it to his head like a cellphone and having a crazy conversation with it.
I don’t think I realized until I had them how much I’d dreaded having a normal kid. I don’t really believe such a thing as “normal” exists. But it still sounds scary to me.