Sunday Dinners: A Lost Art

Somethings in life we forget to give thanks for, like shoelaces...or deodorant. Well, today I was reminded how thankful I am for the Sunday dinner. Many people in America have lost the art of the family tradition. I, myself, have grown up every Sunday eating a very unhealthy amount of mashed potatoes, meat, or desert. The food has not always been special or delicious, rather, its the fact that a family took the time to gather around a dinner table, say a prayer of thanks, and dig in. The food is great, but the chance to laugh and converse with the friends and family, in my opinion, is the true blessing. To often we get to busy in our week to find out about each other's life. But today I was reminded that, through the laughter and friendly gossip, I have the best friends and family anyone could ask for.

Here's to my family back home. To a mom that fixes the best green beans. To an adopted mom that takes my cell so I won't txt. To a adopted Grandma that spoils me. To Brian, who tells the most interesting stories. To a sister-in-law who cooks the most tender roast if falls apart. To a dad, that cooks every bit as good as mom (but mom still makes the better pies). To friends who are rotten enough to laugh at dropped dishes. Thank you all, for reminding me of the lost art of Sunday dinner :)