Friday I thought I wanted to bowl, when really I just wanted to eat.
Saturday I thought I wanted to eat, when really I just wanted to swim. To play kickball. To hug my relatives and laugh myself sore with them. To go to a bar and drink, snack on good junk food, and laugh some more with my cousins.
Sunday our family's church had service outside under a huge white tent. Old-fashioned, country style. My cousin preached. Much food followed.
And today, with Ma and another cousin as my witnesses, I had lines etched into my skin before leaving The Ville for The Mitten.
I've been a Grace my whole life, by my dad and his father. By my mom, her father, and my great-grandfather, I'm a Conwell. But apparently, all of us on my mom's paternal side fall under a much larger branch by the name of Payne. There are so many surnames you can claim, depending on which part of the tree you choose.
I'm so full. This weekend was beyond wonderful. Thank y'all.
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