Old and New

We went to Shawn and Rischelle's house for the traditional Memorial Day TRAIN BURGER picnic and reunion-esque family get-together.

What's a Train Burger, you might ask? Well, pull up a chair and I'll tell you. There's a little diner in Heber City called Dairy Keen. Don't be deceived by the title - this ain't no burger and ice cream joint. Okay, actually, it's exactly a burger and ice cream joint, but though they're fast, it's not fast food. Okay, it probably is, but my point is that it's GOOD! When they make you a shake, they make it with furrowed brow, personality, wrist action, and a little something extra. They specialize in a little something extra. And their burgers? Forget about it.

We would stop there on the way home from the cabin back when we had the cabin and went all the time to the cabin all year round and we loved escaping to the cabin and we called the cabin the Nexus (ten points for who knows why) and I really miss the cabin...

Anyway, the Mikkelsons (Shawn, Rischelle, and their ridiculously-adorable children) would always go up with us. Because they are cool like that.

So, my super cool uncle Shawn and aunt Rischelle (who are more like really awesome cousins or college buddies turned lifelong friends than the typical 'aunt' and 'uncle' - though I probably don't have a typical aunt and uncle in the lot, so that's not a fair statement anyway) ate their "train burger" a few times, figured out the recipe, STOLE it (borrowed?), improved upon it, mastered it, and now feature said burgers once a year on Memorial day.

It is a beautiful thing.

I love getting together with my huge family. It's so fun to see who's bigger (Melissa, your twins are GORGEOUS!), who's smaller (Nate, you looked GREAT!), who's pregnant (yes, besides me), and who's recently graduated from pregnancy.

Wyatt discovered this retro truck in his cousin Kale's room. I think it was my Uncle Shawn's when he was a kid. Which makes me feel like Grandpa Rey probably gave it to him (grandpa died when I was two). Which makes me think it's probably the coolest retro red truck on the face of the planet - and Wyatt is so lucky to get to play with it.

Man. They don't make toys like that anymore.


And look, just look at what *I* got to play with!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Tucked into my greedy little arms is my newest nephew, Fisher Jonah, the latest addition to my big sister's family.

Behold his divinity:

I toyed with the idea of escaping with him out the back door - Jamie has three other kids. She probably wouldn't notice, right? - but then Grandma Call came in and Jamie noted that she hadn't had a chance to hold Fisher yet, and Great Grandma's always trump aunts.

Stupid rule.

But it reminded me how Grandma Call and I were talking about pregnancy symptoms, and how she and I shared one very odd one in common.

It's very embarrassing to admit, because it's DUH-SKUSTING and I would always gag and sputter and groan whenever I saw someone else do it.

And folks, my Grandma Call is one classy dame. She always has her clothes pressed just so, and her jewelry in perfect placement, and her hair in perfect curls, and a rosy color on her lips and a sweet scent on her skin. Even to go to the grocery store. She is a lady and is NOT the sort that would be caught doing this EVER.

And this is how you know that pregnancy urges are INSATIABLE. You cannot escape. When the hormones tell you to do something, you hop to.

My grandma and I, we both have had to...to spit.

Oh, the shame! The horror!

Sigh. It's impossible. It grosses me out, still, but I still have to do it. Whenever I pass a sink, the urge doubles in intensity. Sometimes, I even spit in the grass! If nobody is looking!

I excuse myself, and do it in the most ladylike, delicate manner possible. But spitting is spitting.

You know? I feel better. Thanks for listening to my confession.

It makes me wonder - are there any other bizarre pregnancy symptoms out there that they don't put in any text books? How about it, guys? Have any of you had the urge to, I don't know, drag race?

Now excuse me while I go find a sink (groan).