Please Tell Me What This Means

We had a long, fun-filled, family-centered weekend. It started with Friday night fish fry at the local tavern (I hadn't been in a long while - I was quickly reminded WHY. *burp*). It got rolling with a wedding on Saturday where we danced into the wee hours, chatted our heads off, and chased off some wedding crashers who were eyeing our fourteen year old cousin (*shudder*). And it ended with another family gathering at my uncle's house on Sunday so we could spend more time with the Colorado cousins.

It was a lovely, tiring weekend. Unfortunately, however, I forgot to bring my camera to every gathering but Sunday's. It makes me twitchy to miss so many photo opportunities, especially when there are faraway cousins visiting and a groom break-dancing for about, oh, an hour straight. That boy man has some moves!

But I did manage to remember my camera on Sunday, when we went to the home of my lovely, sweet, wild-woman cousin Jenny.

Let me tell you a little about my cousin Jenny. She likes to play piano, swim in her pool, and email. She can sing hundreds of showtunes and recite every line to most Disney movies. She's Celine Dion's biggest fan, and her favorite song is "Love Shack" by the B-52s. She likes her music loud, her go-carts fast, and her desserts filled with chocolate, chocolate, and double-chocolate with chocolate on top. Does that about cover it, Jen?

I first thought to haul out my camera when my sister Jackie and aunt Susan had my uncle John buried on the couch, and I began taking the usual shots from there, a random sampling of those present. Uncle Greg was grilling his famous "Butcho Burgers."

My cute cousin Alison brought her cute boyfriend Jeremy. Tell me, though, does he look a bit crazed to you? Nah, I must be seeing things.

I even got a picture of my crazy cousin Lauren jumping into the pool. What makes this crazy? It was 50 degrees outside. Yes, dear readers reader, winter is making a hopefully-brief early appearance in the cornfields of IL. D*mn you winter!

I also got my first-ever picture of my mom and her "friend." Question, dear readers reader: What do you call your mom's "friend"? Boyfriend sounds too immature. Significant other sounds too formal. Hot squeeze? I don't want to hear about any hot squeezing going on. I guess we'll stick with "friend." With air quotes.

But about 6 pictures into the gathering, the kids started elbowing for a turn with my camera. I shrieked barked offered a few words caution - my new expensive camera! breathe Laura - and let them loose. I knew it'd be entertaining to see what sorts of things graced my memory card after the camera did a stint with every kid present, including my newly-four year old nephew, but I wasn't quite prepared for the pattern that emerged. There were the usual pictures of kneecaps and drawer pulls and blurry half-faces peering down from above, and there was plenty of fodder for future blackmail (can you say double-chin yo?), but then something funny appeared. It started off innocently enough:

An elbow shot.

And another elbow shot. And about a dozen more I won't bore you with. Then it devolved from there:

It's a butt! Ha ha ha. Ha.

And another butt! *giggle snort guffaw*
But then there was another.
And another:
And another. They just kept coming...
And coming...
And coming... My eyes! My eyes! I began to scream.
How many butts must I endure before it ends?
Side-butt shot. A little easier on the eyes.
Another side-butt shot. Say it's over. Please say it's over!

Ah... that's a headless me, but at least it's not a butt shot.

Um, kids? Could we talk for a minute? I have, um, a few questions about these pictures...