"Dad, guess what? We almost Burned the House Down!"

Yesterday my dad walked in the door only to be greeted by the various outbursts of my siblings as they exclaimed "Dad you just missed it. We almost burned the house down." To this my dad replied in a sarcastically playful voice "Cool, how big was it?" Then in a more concerned voice he approached my mother and asked "what happened?" only to find that a rogue paper towel had gotten too close to the burner and had caught fire.
This experience was one in many of the kinds of things my dad hears when he comes through the door after work. More often than not there are simply delighted cries of "Dad's home!" However on occasion my dad is greeted by the triumphant cries of my brothers' and sister as they have risen up victorious over some near disaster in the home. I knew, from the moment that we could hear my dad as he turned the door knob that he would barely step through the entry way without hearing about it.
It occurred to me that these "experiences" are part of what makes up a family. I love my family because of their spontaneity and desire to just have fun with what life has to offer. We are not a perfect family and yet we make imperfect work.
Although mom often gets to join in the fun of what her kids are doing during the day, dad gets to hear all about it when he gets home. I often wonder what my dad must be thinking when he comes through the door to hear what escapades his children have undergone during the day. For me I almost find it comical, the stories that he gets to hear first hand the moment he steps through the door.
One of the things in this world that means a lot to me is when I can have pure, innocent fun with my siblings and in the process make my parents laugh. Often times my mother will just roll her eyes at us when we do random and spontaneous things, however the rolling of the eyes is just about as good as making her laugh.
I suppose it reminds me of what we truly are, family. Family members can do whatever they want and not worry about what the others will think, cuz guess what? We are stuck together forever and nothing we do will change that.

A Never Ending Road

I stare straight ahead into the unknown. The road goes on for miles and miles. I feel a surge of pleasure, of purpose. I follow the road; where it will take me I do not know, and strangely enough I do not care. I just hope it will not end. My thoughts batter around in my head fighting to receive acknowledgment. Each one wishing to be examined and analyzed. My head is clear; I feel emotion and it's OK. I do not have to hold it back here. It is my place of security. No distractions, no putting on the face, hiding from people the turmoil that ravages inside. I am alone, just me and a never ending road.
I smile; I am running, I am leaving my problems behind. I am invincible, nothing will stop me now. The road goes on for miles. I don't have to face anything but the road ahead and another sunset. I drive towards the sunset but I know I will never reach it. The road goes on and on, the sun set never getting closer. It is like a painting, a picture of perfectness. It is beautiful because I can see it and yet it is not my destination. I have no destination.
The tears flow freely, a mixture of sobs and laughter. I remember the pain and yet I know that I am leaving it all behind, and there is joy. My speedometer reaches 90 miles per hour. I am invincible, nothing will stop me. Just me and the miles ahead on my road that has no destination.
I feel free, more free then I have felt in a very long time. I take a deep breath and relax. This is going to be a long trip. I sigh contentedly, resting my head against the seat. I have purpose and yet I do not have a destination. There is nothing to stop me, nothing that I have to do. I am free and I am leaving it all behind.
There are fields on either side of me, fields that run for miles in both directions, as far as the eye can see. The sky above is a light shade of gray mixed with pink from the sun as it drifts behind the mountains. Soon it will be dark, but time does not matter anymore. I have nowhere to be, nothing I must get done. I have all the time in the world and a road that does not end. I am now at 110, the landscape flies past. No... I fly past, I am flying. I am free.
The thoughts nag at me, something is missing. I look back, longing for something I don't remember. The speedometer drops; the road goes on for miles and miles. I am at 50... 40....30, I can't do it anymore. 20....15...10....5... I stop. My hands caress the steering wheel. I stare at the road, the road that has no destination. Never is an awfully long time, I think to myself.
My head is clear, the thoughts cascading around in my head, free... free to think and feel. The sun is almost gone.
I turn the car around... night falls. I reach 65, there is no hurry. I follow the road... I have a purpose. Tears stream down my face, this time there is no pain; there is nothing but joy and love. The love I feel for those who care about me, the ones I left behind.
I am relaxed, a peaceful serenity enveloping me into it's warm embrace.
I sigh in contentment as I follow the road...the road that will take me home.
...I stare ahead into the unknown. The road goes on for miles and miles. I feel a surge of pleasure, of purpose...