It is at holiday get-togethers that I learn the most from my family. We don’t see each other often and I get to hone in on the details that make us similar and different. Two of those things really stood out to me this past Thanksgiving holiday. A non relative can pick up on the obvious but for the second half of this blog, I’m not so sure…come closer and listen in.
Let’s begin with the blaring, fire alarm obvious. My brother-in-law noticed me drinking a Mike’s, Black Cherry, Hard Lemonade. He had heard of them. Noticed them, but never tasted one. It was an opportune time, to take a sip of mine, so I let him. After all, they are so yummy and delicious. Here’s where things went awry. After he handed me back my drink, I couldn’t just let things stop there. I had to insist he keep the drink, and finish it. I promised he would love it. He was gracious enough to say, “No thanks, I really just wanted to try it.” That’s when it hit me. I’m a forcer by genetics.
It was only earlier at the dinner table when my very own mother was trying to shovel her homemade cranberry sauce onto my plate and down my throat (the throat part is an exaggeration needed for purposes of this story). How did I know it was homemade? It’s because she told everyone at the table at least twenty times. “Have some. I made it” “No thanks mom. I don’t eat cranberry sauce.” “but I made it. Have some. You’ll like it. Let me just give you a little”. It cringed me to realize in some sense I’ve become my mother. (Sorry mom. It’s said in the best way possible.) That’s when it hit me like a brick hitting a windshield. My family is forcers. I’m not sure if it is in our genetic make-up or if it is just something handed down from generation to generation. Either way, I’m going to talk to myself about this and file it in my brain somewhere for future reference, but for now I have to continue my holiday story.
Ok let me shake the forcing thing off of me long enough to bring up the other thingamagiggy we had going on at Thanksgiving. I was telling a story to my sister and mom and had their full attention. As I was telling the story, I noticed their lips moving. Here’s the bizarre-o-ness of their lips moving. No sounds were coming out of their mouth. I took notice. It was the most authentic lip-syncing I’d ever witnessed. Their lips were moving with the words coming out of my mouth. What was the deal with this? Were they trying to tell the story as I was telling the story? Were they anticipating the words coming out of my mouth? Were they trying to repeat my words as I was telling them? When I pointed out what they were in fact doing, they quickly denied it. I could tell they made a conscious effort to freeze all facial parts as I continued to speak (well, except my mom, her lips kept moving)? Really it’s a peculiar habit.
Anyway, the day progressed and they forgot their quirky habit. I took my daughter aside and let her in on the secret. She soon took notice of my siblings and moms lips moving as others were talking. I now had a witness to attest to this crazy habit that formed within my family. I’ve always noticed it and simply dismissed it. I found harmless humor in sharing this fun fact with another non-infected lip-synching blood relative in something I noticed so long ago. Well, I guess it’s not much of a secret now that you are all clued in as well lol.
The holidays with family will continue as will each of our quirky habits. I’m not immune. I’m sure they can tally a list of things I do. They will complain how I sing on top of my lungs at random moments. They will tell you they are not just any songs but show tunes. Zip it! Don’t judge. Ask yourselves, what are your family’s quirks and how do you stand out in that crowd? I look forward to the next holiday when the forcing, lip reading/moving and singing takes place because that’s what makes us family.
CINDAWENDA 