Today, the challenge or prompt is to write about a few of my favorite family traditions. My first reaction to the prompt was less than enthusiastic. After all, if you’ve seen any of my previous work, you may have some ideas about my early years. I mean, when I use the term urban nomads to describe my birth family, it should give you some idea about my earlier life.
The only repeated behavior that seemed to become a tradition was pulling up stakes and moving. We could box up, pack up, and move faster than most moving companies in those days. Of course, another aspect of that life was the tradition of finding a way to fit in at our new school and with neighborhood kids.
I was on the verge of writing something snarky about the prompt. I even started to research my previous and unfinished works to bolster my feeling the prompt meant little, if anything, to me. Then I remembered something I wrote last year that came from another online suggestion for a topic: Another Humpday Night.
There was one favorite tradition that is still around. It is discussed in “Another Humpday Night.” If you have a few minutes, I encourage you to read it. It shows that a silly little tradition from your youth can sometimes play a big role later in your life. Of course, as you’ll read in Humpday Night, your kids may think you have a screw loose.
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Meh, what do kids know? 🙂 We have certainly had times where we watched shows once the kids came along but probably fewer than when I was a kid. But, yeah, the shows I watched in those innocent years were The Partridge Family, The Carol Burnett Show, Emergency, Happy Days. I have wonderful memories of those times gathered around the tv laughing.
Bonding time is bonding time, and having laughs together is important. As much as I like technology, the lack of shared enjoyment bothers me. Even when I visit my girls and the grandkids on holidays, birthdays or what have you I am sorry the bonding or joint enjoyment time is so limited to hugs and sharing a meal. Then the kids jump into their devices, and shortly thereafter people begin to go their separate ways. Summer is a bit better because there is outdoor time we can share, unless it’s a blazing hot summer.