but you can't choose your family. That adage is an oldie but a goodie.
It's also wrong. If you're married, you presumably chose your spouse. And in choosing your spouse (unless he is a bona fide orphan) you were also choosing his family. I suppose some families might be a deal breaker, but most of us figure that we can either put up with (good luck) or even change (yeah, right) the quirkier aspects of our spouse's family.
This evening I spent over five hours with my husband's family at a belated Christmas gathering in a Chicago suburb. My husband spent the evening at a corporate get together at Disney World in Orlando, Florida. The only other member of my immediate family who was able to come with me to "Hawaiian Christmas" was K. I am so glad that she was there to provide moral support when I needed it, ie. was tempted to throw up my hands or pull out my hair.
My in-laws are so different than my family. I knew that going in to my marriage, but for some reason I really didn't think it would be a problem.
Was I wrong! There were a few warning signals during our 11 month engagement, but I dismissed them as isolated anomalies. Looking back, those warning signals should have been as loud as Robot in Lost in Space admonishing his young charge, "Danger, Will Robinson!"
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