Wake Me Up Before You Burn-Burn

So on Saturday night, SkyBlue, Lou, Zibby, Zibby’s friends, Jack and I had a cookout and bonfire at my folks’ house. They have a stellar compound created for optimal summer fun…covered deck, bonfire pit, pool, lots of chairs, chaises, etc. Summer is a great time at the compound; everyone has their own assigned pool raft, 80’s flashback music plays perennially on the stereo, and Jack starts a bonfire each and every weekend night throughout summer. Lou nicknamed Jack "Keeper of the Flame" 6 years ago when they burned three whole trees in an evening and created an inferno Dante would have been proud of.

This weekend, the weather was unseasonably warm and April 25th was the earliest bonfire we’ve had. Everyone was there except Brady; he and his girlfriend attended her prom.

Anyway, we imbibed, adequately appeasing the margarita gods. Sitting around the bonfire, I realized just how much fun my family can be. While we savor politics, religion, wit/sarcasm and B-movie plots, any topic is fair game. In the span of 10 minutes, we debated Obama's first 100 days in bipartisan fashion, discussed Catholic social policy in regard to immigration, and sang along to a Wham! song.

Sometimes I have to purposefully and deliberately shed my professional image when I go “home.” To them, I’m just Dorrie. It’s wonderful to let go of the ambition every now and then and just BE. Going to the home in which I grew up is still weird to me. I can still run through the dark house, leaping over footstools and other obstacles without tripping. I know exactly where the marshmallows are kept in the kitchen, which bathroom draw holds the band-aids, and where Brady’s ‘secret’ stash of gum awaits. Whenever I’m there, I revert back to the kid I once was…when my biggest worries in the world were my little league game that night and whether I could get out of doing the dishes. I guess we’re always at home when we return to our parents’ home.