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It may not be so cute, but 'We are Family'
(by Christine Thome - January 20, 2011)
BEYOND MY CONTROL, BY CHRISTINE THOME
It may not be so cute, but 'We are Family'
So there I am, sitting in traffic with nothing to do but listen to my '70s music and stare at the snow-covered minivan in front of me.
As I belt out "We are Family," by Sister Sledge, I notice the minivan has a window decal of family stick figures on its back window.
It was a family of four. The dad figure had a short-sleeve shirt and pants on; the mom figure was smiling in her top and skirt; the little girl had a triangle for a dress and a sweet bow in her curly hair; and the little boy had an adorable ball cap on top of his perfectly round head and a baseball mitt in his hand.
Yea, right. Whose family looks anything like this?
If we're going to show off our families to the world, I think we should demand a little truth in advertising.
Take my family, for example. My kids would be mortified if I placed a stick figure family on our car window, but, if I wanted to embarrass the hell out of them, and I just might, here is what our family would look like.
John, the dad, would be wearing a faded and beat-up Jaycees ball cap to cover his bald head. He wouldn't be smiling so much as grimacing, because he is being forced to stand so close to his family. In one hand would be a beer can and in the other a lit cigar. Nearby would be a golf club and a hunting rifle designating his favorite pastimes. He would be wearing his favorite pair of $12 Costco jeans and a T-shirt that reads, "It's all About Me!"
My mother figure would certainly not be a stick figure. Even at my lowest weight, I was never considered skinny, so let's put some meat on that woman. In one hand would be a wine glass and, in the other, the wine bottle. My hair would be missing in spots, because my family causes me to pull it out on a regular basis. I would be wearing comfortable sweat pants and a stained sweatshirt, my uniform of choice when chauffeuring kids all over God's green Earth. My only hobby accessories might be a book and more wine bottles.
My oldest daughter's figure would be clothed in her college sweatshirt. Her eyes would be rolled back into her head in either disgust or boredom -- we're never quite sure. She would have a cell phone stuck permanently to her ear and a suitcase in her hand, because every time she comes home for more than a weekend, she can't get back to school soon enough.
My son's figure would also be clothed in a sweatshirt, although the hood would be pulled over his head and down below his eyes. In his ears would be Ipod earphones, and outside his head would be animated squiggly marks designating very loud music. Music that none of us wants to hear. His pants would be sagged down low and too much of his boxers exposed.
My twin daughters have refused to dress alike since they were 3 years old, but what they don't understand is that all junior high girls dress exactly alike: skinny jeans, Ugg boots, North Face jacket and hair pulled back into a pony tail. So their figures would be outfitted exactly alike. However, instead of smiling at the car behind them, they would be screaming at each other. Pony tails would be pulled, and fists would be flying. Instead of a sport accessory decal, I would place one of those Batman "POW!" icons above them.
And our family wouldn't be a family without our beloved pets. Josie, the always hungry golden retriever, would have her head in a garbage can. Louie, the naughty Shi Tzu, would be pooping near John, hoping that he'll step in it. And Maizy, the cat, would be at the farthest side of the back window, looking very offended that she has to be part of such a dysfunctional family.
We are definitely not the family Sister Sledge was singing about. In fact, there's probably a country western song that describes us perfectly. But we're certainly a lot more fun to look at in traffic.
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