Nutbars in my family

 I was just reading back through the sparse entries of the spring, realizing that I am going to FORGET ALL THE GOOD STUFF if I don't write it down.  But before I write about how I turned into Les Nessman during the last week of school, I want to share the nutbars that inhabit my family.

On the day before we went to Canada, I was picking up a few last-minute things, and saw this pack of stick-on fake moustaches in the check-out line.

It was like a sign, or something.


There were 6 moustaches.  In Victoria, there were 5 cousins, and Grandma was very gracious to use the 6th 'stache.  The freaky thing?  As soon as she put the moustache on, Ken and his brother nearly had heart attacks because she is now the spitting image of her younger brother.  Like freakishly similar.  We'd just never noticed it before (without the lady-moustache).


Skip even got into the fun, and he's been rather aloof lately, so this was a good thing.  I think the young cousins loosen him up.  Note to self:  Five children without training will NEVER sound like a barbershop quartet, no matter how much they think they can sing...


And then we went to the Okanagan, to hang with my folks, and my brother and his kids.
I trotted out the moustaches again.  Gotta get my dollar's worth out of them, y'know.


This next shot is going to be the front of my parents' Christmas card this year:


I told the kids to look like a wanted poster.  Nate's got the one-cheeked gun-slinger grin, if you ask me.
And if you want to make Nate mad?  You hold out your hands like this:


Back when Nate was really sick and feverish in the spring, it was all he could do to move from his bed to the couch in the morning.  And he'd be restless and uncomfortable, alternatingly hot and cold.  Ken had just gotten a snuggy as a work gift (um, yeah, could we get electronics instead?  Not that I'm ungrateful or anytihng...). and he was so sick that he'd called feebly out to Skip to brring him the snuggy because he was chilled.  Skip brought him the snuggy, and with Nate's final effort, he'd held his hands out like in the photo up there, and said "Can you put the arms on me?"  So now, our universal family symbol for "I'm feeble and need help" is to hold out your hands, and make a sad face.  It drives Nate nuts, and I should probably put the kibosh on it, but it just makes me laugh Every. Single. Time.  And of course, EVERYTHING is funnier when you're sporting a soup strainer on your top lip.

Of course, the kids all come by their lunacy honestly.

My brother, in one of his calmer moments...


And then there's my dad.


What makes this even funnier (apart from the fact that Skip is fast asleep), is the idea that there is a nearly identical photo of my dad doing this to his mother-in-law over 40 years ago.  I wouldn't be surprised if this was the same quilt.  I must hunt down that photo.  I'm sure that my mom scanned the slide at some point.