This is the first thing to cross my mind as I start writing about the family. Well, not about them, but about my time with them.
I took the boyfriend with me for an extended stay in the good old South Bay (the one by San Francisco, not Redondo Beach). He had the pleasure of meeting almost all the important family friends, and he got the stamp of approval from them. As far as I know.
Next week we go to his ginormous and loud (and fun, obvs) family's annual beach trip in South Carolina. They are about 5x the size and volume of my family. I am not sure I will get the stamp, because I am not often loud.
The good news is there will be booze. I may be louder than usual. I will still pass out early.
Anyhow, the first morning at the parents, I joined my dad for a hearty breakfast of oatmeal. An hour later on the way to the city, we stopped not even a mile away from home for tacos. Hellooo vacation.
We spent the day in SF and I'm happy to report I haven't forgotten how to get from Soma to Hayes Valley to the Haight and back out without needing directions. Or hitting a biker. I know, I know, it's all of like, 1.5 miles. Don't judge. I've been gone a long time!
Went to the SF MoMA. It was a nice day to be on a museum's roof. If you're keeping track, that's a museum two weekends in a row. Let's not make this a habit, people.
The next few days were spent in and around the parents house. Did I mention my mom has gone and replaced me and my sister? And I'm not talking about fostering or mentoring or anything like she's done in the past.
Mom decided to sacrifice the next 18 months to the training and well-being of a service dog.
Little did the chair and the shoe know, they were also going to make sacrifices.
Okay, the dog is adorable and my mom actually takes it to obedience school (she has no choice) and I wake up weekly to a new email of photos of it "growing up so fast." It's name is even Nan. Perfect for my mom, Anne. Nan and Anne? Adorable, right? Learn more about volunteering for this organization and get your own really cute dog that you can take into Starbucks in a vest.
One day, the boyfriend, the parents and I drove to Livermore to wine taste. This is the closer, cheaper version of Napa. Closer to places like Fresno. I should have taken more pictures. Drinking brings out the best in me and my mom (who inevitably will stop drinking because SOMEONE has to drive). Fun times! No, really, it was good, and I tried to be well-behaved and it could have been SO MUCH WORSE, you have no idea. The boyfriend thought it odd/weird/funny/scary when my mom and I had our little exchanges. Apparently his sister and his mom are just besties and never fought, not even growing up. I think he was just totally unaware.
Nobody cried, or screamed, or pulled the car over any of the days we were there. Success!
After drinking wine we stopped by my mom's childhood friend's house to drink more and watch the Giants lose. Boyfriend got the stamp of approval. And a cold beer.
Then we had to hurry (and I mean, like, go over 66 mph!!!) home because poor dog had been in her crate for like, 5 hours. Note: Dog spends about 8 hours a night in the crate. She had no idea it was even daytime. Whatevs.
After the stressful drive home from the vineyards of Livermore Valley, we picked grapefruit from the backyard and made fresh-squeezed cocktails. Why? Because it was Saturday!
Pretty sure this was the night we passed out at 8pm. Go figure.
All in all, good trip home but as always, ready to leave.
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