A Post-Modern Family

At a certain age, when you are removed enough in time or removed enough in distance, you permit yourself to expand your definition of Family. It takes stepping back; re-envisioning. Allowing yourself to pick and choose the elements that comprise this new post-modern, 3D image with the word “Family” imprinted on its tiny gold plaque in the way you sift through vegetables at the local co-op in this city you did not grow up in. Lauren and I shopped for the first Thanksgiving we would host together.

My hands were pushed deep in my pockets, thoroughly involved but relentlessly sleepy, and Lauren pushed the drifting cart while skimming a nail-bitten finger down her lengthy list of ingredients, referencing recipes torn from the soft glow of high-end home-maker magazines. She asked my opinions on possible dishes we could serve our guests (in addition, I supposed, to the keg I had so thoughtfully arranged). We were more than just a settled, living-together couple—suddenly we were Family. We were spending "the holidays" together.

We turned the corner pushing our overflowing cart in the midst of the produce section. A middle aged man delicately stocking oranges excitedly exclaimed in our direction.

"You two sure look like sisters!"

I awkwardly ducked behind a pile of edible greenery to avoid the inevitable. I heard Lauren reply with fake incredulousness. She loved moments like this.

"Uh, no...that would be illegal."

The confused man first asked her to repeat herself then hesitated...

“Oh, I get it."

Lauren kissed my face, letting all of the suburban moms and dads know what happens when you let your daughter go to a Liberal Arts college.

Thanksgiving arrived 48 hours later. DC’s free agents, who chose not to (or did not have the option to) share this traditional meal with the family dictated by their similar double helices, filled our first floor apartment. Everyone was thankful, as evidenced by a wall of post-it notes unabashedly expressing our gratuity for cats, ice cream, the upcoming end of the current presidential administration, booze, love, and family—both the one we were each born with and the one we built; carefully constructed the way tiny birds build nests from toothpicks and apple seeds.