The Sorta In-Laws

This year, The Boy and I are spending the holidays with each other's respective families.  I get him at Christmas, and I had the priveledge of spending Thanksgiving with his family.  

I'm used to a very large traditional meal with more food (and more caseroles than you can name) available than could possibly be finished.  While, The Boy's family had all the traditional stuff, it was on a much smaller scale than I was used to - both by attendee numbers and quantity of food.  We had a great time though, and it was really nice to meet more of his family.

Last weekend, The Boy's family invited me to a very special family ceremony honoring one of his uncles.  If I thought I got off the hook easy with only meeting a few relatives at Thanksgiving, then this was a giant fisherman's net.  I met aunts, uncles, cousins, great-aunts, great-uncles and a few family friends thrown in there.  I was even "welcomed to the family" by a few of them.  

One of the funniest events of the weekend, however, came when we were taking our assigned seats for the ceremony.  The Boy's mother had called in to include all our names on the seats.  Something went wrong in the communication because I ended up being "X. The Boy's Last Name."  His mom thought it was hilarious, and I got a pretty good chuckle out of it as well.  The Boy was somewhere between rolling-his eyes and displeased at his parents' giddiness over a possible name change for me.  

I was thrilled to find out that his family is completely normal and really, very, very nice.  I'd be happy to join their family.

My Knight in Shining Armor

A while back, there was a big game for The Boy's college team.  My roommates had just given their dogs bones to keep them occupied.  I walked by one of the dogs, asked him (like he was going to answer me) what he had as I pointed at it with my toe.  Turns out, he did answer me... by grabbing my foot in his mouth and clamping his Husky teeth into my skin.

Luckily, I'd just put my shoes on, so the damage to my body was minimal.  My hundred dollar running shoes, however, now sport a big hole in the toe.  I called Will hysterical (much more scared than actually hurt), and he rushed into the house when he got here.  He calmed me down asI bandaged my toe, letting me know it was ok.  

After we got back from the game (which they incientally lost), he held onto me in the living room, "protecting me" from the dogs as I was still shaken up from what happened earlier.  

I'm sure I overreacted, but it was really nice to know that he'll protect me even from the little things that try to hurt me.