I learned the other day that Oz, while he did take a few German classes, did not actually learn words that would enable him to interpret the phrase, "Halt! Hammerzeit!" and, ergo, did not understand the giggles that particular phrase elicited from me.
A couple weeks ago, Oz's dad and stepmom came down from upstate Pennsylvania to visit. It had been a while since we had gone up to visit and much longer than anyone else had seen them, so we all spent as much time as possible together. On their last Saturday here, we all got together at Oz's grandmother's house for a family barbecue.
Part of the job of Oz's brothers was to make fun of Oz for his stepmom's injuries. See her hand? That's the tip of the iceberg. She fell off a step leaving our house on Monday and hurt her wrists, fingers, knee, leg, ankles... you name it, she probably injured it. Bless her heart, she didn't let on a word to us about all the damage until Thursday because she didn't want Oz to be upset. All he knew was that she had fallen. She's a sweetie.
Oz's dad is a good man. He's always so proud of all his boys and loves his grandbabies. And he's the cameraman.
Here's Grandma talking to M2 about purses and gifts and all things girly. Grandma always has something up her sleeve for her kiddos. She is the only person whom M2 will listen to when she gets her fit on, so we love Grandma dearly.
Gotta have a picture of the brothers. Oz is the oldest, on the left. Then comes the guy in the striped shirt, the guy in the red shirt, and last but definitely not least, the guy in the gray shirt. Bocce was the name of the game this time. Last time, it was horseshoes. Somewhere in one of the houses, a rugby ball lives although I think the boys haven't broken that out in years.
Brothers will be brothers, and family is family, even if we do only get to really get everyone together once every couple of years!