Spaghetti Day

Wednesday is Spaghetti Day. The day when my entire family eats spaghetti. Kind of funny, right? Why spaghetti? Why that day? Well, I am going to just go ahead and tell you. See, you can't stop me, because this is my blog. I get to decide what goes in it. You get to decide to read it and you could stop now, but I bet if you've made it this far, you won't. Doesn't matter, cuz I'm still going cogitate on the matter regardless.

Does it have to be Prego? Why yes it does. The Chicago faction has dropped the carrot sticks and added salad and Cory's famous garlic bread, while the St. Paul faction may or may not have dropped the chocolate cake requirement a few years ago due to the calorie content....red wine is optional in Chicago, pretty much a big no-no in St. Paul. Meat, also optional, changes year to year. But the main thing is that the Garretts and the Claeys' eat spaghetti.

It's what we do, to commemorate, celebrate the day, that we all came together and became a family. It was the day my twin and I moved in, not the official adoption, cuz that happened a year later in a court downtown St. Paul. I was wearing a nicer dress then, that fit. I signed some papers saying, yes, I did want these two particular individuals to be my parents. I was seven then. But the day we moved in. Now that was a strange day. We were six years old. We knew it was going to happen.

Here is how it started: Mommy Lynn sat us down for a talk one day. She had decided to adopt us. She said if we were good and said good things about her to the social workers that she would take us to Valley Fair. I had always wanted to go to Valley Fair. I knew enough about what to tell the social workers and what not to tell them. In fact I knew so much that I actually forgot what I knew I knew. There was a lot we didn't say. Knew it would end up getting us arrested and in jail. So I forgot it, for years actually-because what six year old wants to go to jail? We kept our mouths shut, afterall- we loved our Mommy Lynn. There was another mommy years ago but she stopped loving us (that's what Mommy Lynn said) so we sort of just tried to forget about her. And we tried to do right by Mommy Lynn, she was the only one who was willing to love us, you see. But even though we loved her right well, we still had dreams. Every night I prayed to God to bring me a pretty mommy who would love me because I was me. I wasn't sure if such a mom existed, but I thought I would ask for one just the same. Then Mommy Lynn starts saying all that about 'adopting'.

But the social workers came instead to tell us there were some other people who wanted to adopt us. My brother and I looked at each other in complete surprise-who could possibly possibly.....but it was true. The social workers brought a photo album. The woman was pale like my Mommy Lynn, but with red hair. Actually, fire orange. The man was big and dark, darker than me and my brother. How strange, we thought-they looked sooooooo strange. Come to think of it, neither of us had ever seen a red-headed white person, or a dark black man. At the time I thought it was a sign, realizing for the first time that we never really fit in where we were. All the neighbors called us n^%^ers and Mommy Lynn always had us scrubbing for hours in a hot tub because we were too dirty and dark. But it turns out people were actually just 'that' color.

I remember when they came over the first time, with more pictures of their two kids, mixed pretty as you please and I was fascinated. Once coaxed from behind the couch, that is. We had two sleep-overs. We both got Care Bears. And there were so many cool toys, and the clothes these kids wore (my potential siblings), well they fit! They weren't too big or too small.

But the house smelled funny-different, there was no carpet just hardwood so the stairs creaked and they left lights in the hallways on, where I was used to darkness and tip-toeing. And I still wanted to go to Valley Fair. I was pretty sure I would NEVER get to ride a roller coaster if we let these people take us, but it was so clear that they WANTED us. Like no one ever had before. Someone wanted us? How fricking strange is that, right? Liked us? No way, never happen. But it was happening and somewhere along the way I forgot about Valley Fair (until years later, the 5th grade spring field trip, when I was grounded from it and couldn't go, drat) and agreed, we agreed, to let them be our new family.

I remember moving in day. The station wagon that arrived to pick us up. The sister being so bossy and excited, and the brother being so loud. We, my brother and I, were shy and quiet. Lynn watched from the window as we and our most special toys (he-man and teddy bear and doll) and our suitcase full of clothes that were ten years out of style and sizes too big and small, drove away. She looked real sad. My new sister was the one who burst into tears then. She saw how heart-broken she was. We were kind of glad, though....

The new neighborhood kids were in the backyard of my new home when we got there. They knew we were coming and wanted to know if we would all play with them. We had to put our stuff away. On my new bed, the pink care bear sat, looking at me. I put my things down and went to play. Then, yep, you guessed it. Spaghetti.

Hooray for spaghetti.