I would bet that there are thousands -nay millions- of blog entries between Thanksgiving and New Years with titles that contain the words “family” and “crazy.” In fact, a quick googling of the words “family” and “crazy” yields 67,700,000 hits. On the Monday after Thanksgiving last year, I sat down to blog about my crazy family with what I considered to be the mother of all crazy family stories. (I arrived at my father’s house to discover that his girlfriend had moved in with him months before, unbeknownst to me. What made it really crazy is that there is no bad blood between my father and me, nor was he trying to hide the situation. He just plum didn’t tell me for some reason that probably made perfect sense in the world he inhabits.) But after mulling over the situation a bit, devoting blog space to family weirdness around the holidays seemed kind of lame and boring. Clearly, I would not be breaking new ground.
Yet, here I am again. For the past seven years or so, it’s as if the two sides of my family have been waged in a game of cosmic crazy-poker, during which every six months one side ups the ante.
