I wrote a paper for Comp II describing some of my family relations that I was pretty proud of so I thought I'd put it up for your consideration, I hope you enjoy it. (Having recieved my paper back, you may now read the grammatically corrected version)
Christmas morning is always a hectic time for my family; I always have, and probably always will, been a morning person and on Christmas day that means I’m up early (think 6 AM). My sister, on the other hand, would be happier getting up when the sun is on the other side of the sky; on Christmas or any other day. My parents fall somewhere in between, preferring reasonable morning hours (8-9 AM). As you can imagine, this make mornings an interesting time at the Emery house. Eventually we all get up and open presents. We then pack the remaining presents into the car and get ready to go to my Grandparents.
Grandma cooks breakfast for our entire family, which is quite an ordeal: four children who are all married with children of their own equates to a large family and thus an enormous amount of food; I’m sure she has truckloads of food arriving the week before just to provide the ingredients. As long as I can remember, my family has never made it in time for anything but leftovers from breakfast that we eat while Grandpa begins sorting presents.
Sometime before I was born, my family set up a system for gifts where everyone buys a gift for one other person, and we have a preset spending limit. My family, however, seems to create rules just to break them so every year Grandma and my Aunt Sherry would buy gifts for all the kids (which we thought was great) and the remainder of the family never missed an opportunity to playfully remind them of our system. Our family also takes great amusement in trying to make each other feel guilty; as a matter of fact, we rarely miss a chance to lay a ‘guilt trip’ on someone and if they express guilt: “Gotcha!” Questioning the amount of a gift is a great tactic to lay on a guilt trip. Aunt Elaine usually initiated the game after someone received a gift from Aunt Sherry, “That looks pretty expensive . . .” or some years she would approach it with a little less tack, “Did you forget about the price limit? Now I feel cheap,” she would gush with a slight grin on her face, “I got yours from the clearance aisle.”
This was a maneuver where one individual would act guilty to make someone else feel guilt. This would start the rest of the family in on the game, “Yep, I saw some plates that looked just like those at Penney’s,” Uncle Ronnie would jump in with a sly grin, “and they were definitely over the price limit.”
“Goes to show what you know,” Sherry would shoot back. “I got them on sale at Target and when do you shop at Penney’s?”
“That sounds awful fishy,” pushed Elaine, “how about you let me see the receipt?”
“Nope; I forgot to get a gift receipt and the recipient isn’t suppose to see the price of the gift,” answered Sherry, “besides it’s the thought that counts right?”
“Oh, whatever!” Elaine would break in, “you just spent too much and won’t admit it!”
And so it went; each year we would improve at the game of guilt until we reached the point where we no longer feel guilt about much of anything, which, as far as I’m concerned, makes it that much more of a good challenge. I’m sure that some people would say we have a sick sense of humor, but the family has a very special term for those individuals: party-poopers. Taking such people in stride, we choose to have fun and ignore such negative comments.
Later that evening, after lunch and afternoon naps, we gather around the table for annual Nerts game. For those who’ve never played Nerts, it is a card game played with partners that can be best described as a combination of Speed and Solitaire. We draw names for allies, otherwise poor Aunt Cathy would be torn limb from limb as we all fought over her as a partner; after the grumbling from everyone that isn’t Cathy’s partner dies down, we pair up and lay out our cards. Throughout the course of the game, there is an abundance of good-natured (read as: humorous) arguing which starts before the game when, unfailingly, one group isn’t ready when everyone else is,
“Okay, is everyone ready? Go!”
“Wait! We don’t even have our cards down! Good grief!”
“What’s taking so long? Come on, quit talking and deal the cards!”
The volume level rises as the game progresses as partners point out where to play and fight for position,
“Oh, Oh, Oh! Play your 5 of clubs!”
“Where? I don’t see – Oh!”
“Ha! Oh no you don’t we were there first! Look, look, look my card is on the bottom –see?!”
By then Aunt Cathy was finishing out her hand and ended the round with “Nerts!”
The rest of us would groan, whine about how we barely missed it or by how much we missed it amidst partners laying claim to Cathy for the next game. The funny thing is when anyone except Cathy calls Nerts (which happens about two thirds of the time) they are immediately accused of cheating. This is another Emery tradition that is so ingrained within our family I grew up thinking it must be in the rules of the game. Rule #7: Whenever someone (other than Cathy Emery) calls Nerts they must be accused of cheating – the claim may then be investigated. Now I know better (nobody investigates the claim).
For example, my cousin Daniel and I get a Nerts one game; we glance at each other to be sure then lay it out, exclaiming,
“Nerts!” just as we lay down our last two cards. No sooner does the phrase leave my mouth and Grandma and Aunt Elaine both exclaim,
“Cheaters! We were one card away from a Nerts! There’s no way you could have played before us!”
“I guess you’re just slow,” I explain as Daniel and I show our empty hands with a shrug, “maybe next round?"
“Nah,” Daniel exclaims, “we’ll get it next round too.”
“Oh, shut up,” Elaine shoots back, “I’m going to be watching you this time; no more cheating from you and then Mom and I will get have it in the bag.” These discourses continue every time a Nerts occurs and the ‘cheaters’ usually vary each round.
About halfway through the first game, we revert to more devious tactics as everyone starts loading up on leftover turkey, ham and pie (not necessarily in that order), which means one thing: gas warfare game two. The second game of Nerts no longer consists of empty accusations, now accusing a cheater results in a methane focused response that tends to clear the room of everyone except the vessel of the biological warfare. All of this interaction does make some bold statements about our family; for the sake of this essay we will ignore the fact that we’re a gross family with a twisted sense of humor; and focus beneath our outer layers to reveal the deep rooted love that allows us to tease each other and have a good time together. It is a love that manifests itself whenever we need something as the entire family jumps in wholeheartedly to meet the need.
This is the second component of my wealth – my family and the love that binds us together. I can identify with Thomas Bierowski because, through Christ and my family, I’m one of the “richest kids in town, this I know.”
A Family Affair
In our culture, monetary value is considered to be a fair measurement of one’s wealth, but there are those who measure true wealth with very different scales. Thomas Bierowski, for example, in his essay “Red Power Ranger and the Fruit Bat” claims family as his primary wealth. Assessing my view of wealth, I’ve found it to be the sum of two factors: my value in Christ and my value through family. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, neither value is truly measureable, but I can sum up my value in Christ in a word (priceless) whereas my value through family requires a little more explanation, or better yet an example in the place of an explanation.Christmas morning is always a hectic time for my family; I always have, and probably always will, been a morning person and on Christmas day that means I’m up early (think 6 AM). My sister, on the other hand, would be happier getting up when the sun is on the other side of the sky; on Christmas or any other day. My parents fall somewhere in between, preferring reasonable morning hours (8-9 AM). As you can imagine, this make mornings an interesting time at the Emery house. Eventually we all get up and open presents. We then pack the remaining presents into the car and get ready to go to my Grandparents.
Grandma cooks breakfast for our entire family, which is quite an ordeal: four children who are all married with children of their own equates to a large family and thus an enormous amount of food; I’m sure she has truckloads of food arriving the week before just to provide the ingredients. As long as I can remember, my family has never made it in time for anything but leftovers from breakfast that we eat while Grandpa begins sorting presents.
Sometime before I was born, my family set up a system for gifts where everyone buys a gift for one other person, and we have a preset spending limit. My family, however, seems to create rules just to break them so every year Grandma and my Aunt Sherry would buy gifts for all the kids (which we thought was great) and the remainder of the family never missed an opportunity to playfully remind them of our system. Our family also takes great amusement in trying to make each other feel guilty; as a matter of fact, we rarely miss a chance to lay a ‘guilt trip’ on someone and if they express guilt: “Gotcha!” Questioning the amount of a gift is a great tactic to lay on a guilt trip. Aunt Elaine usually initiated the game after someone received a gift from Aunt Sherry, “That looks pretty expensive . . .” or some years she would approach it with a little less tack, “Did you forget about the price limit? Now I feel cheap,” she would gush with a slight grin on her face, “I got yours from the clearance aisle.”
This was a maneuver where one individual would act guilty to make someone else feel guilt. This would start the rest of the family in on the game, “Yep, I saw some plates that looked just like those at Penney’s,” Uncle Ronnie would jump in with a sly grin, “and they were definitely over the price limit.”
“Goes to show what you know,” Sherry would shoot back. “I got them on sale at Target and when do you shop at Penney’s?”
“That sounds awful fishy,” pushed Elaine, “how about you let me see the receipt?”
“Nope; I forgot to get a gift receipt and the recipient isn’t suppose to see the price of the gift,” answered Sherry, “besides it’s the thought that counts right?”
“Oh, whatever!” Elaine would break in, “you just spent too much and won’t admit it!”
And so it went; each year we would improve at the game of guilt until we reached the point where we no longer feel guilt about much of anything, which, as far as I’m concerned, makes it that much more of a good challenge. I’m sure that some people would say we have a sick sense of humor, but the family has a very special term for those individuals: party-poopers. Taking such people in stride, we choose to have fun and ignore such negative comments.
Later that evening, after lunch and afternoon naps, we gather around the table for annual Nerts game. For those who’ve never played Nerts, it is a card game played with partners that can be best described as a combination of Speed and Solitaire. We draw names for allies, otherwise poor Aunt Cathy would be torn limb from limb as we all fought over her as a partner; after the grumbling from everyone that isn’t Cathy’s partner dies down, we pair up and lay out our cards. Throughout the course of the game, there is an abundance of good-natured (read as: humorous) arguing which starts before the game when, unfailingly, one group isn’t ready when everyone else is,
“Okay, is everyone ready? Go!”
“Wait! We don’t even have our cards down! Good grief!”
“What’s taking so long? Come on, quit talking and deal the cards!”
The volume level rises as the game progresses as partners point out where to play and fight for position,
“Oh, Oh, Oh! Play your 5 of clubs!”
“Where? I don’t see – Oh!”
“Ha! Oh no you don’t we were there first! Look, look, look my card is on the bottom –see?!”
By then Aunt Cathy was finishing out her hand and ended the round with “Nerts!”
The rest of us would groan, whine about how we barely missed it or by how much we missed it amidst partners laying claim to Cathy for the next game. The funny thing is when anyone except Cathy calls Nerts (which happens about two thirds of the time) they are immediately accused of cheating. This is another Emery tradition that is so ingrained within our family I grew up thinking it must be in the rules of the game. Rule #7: Whenever someone (other than Cathy Emery) calls Nerts they must be accused of cheating – the claim may then be investigated. Now I know better (nobody investigates the claim).
For example, my cousin Daniel and I get a Nerts one game; we glance at each other to be sure then lay it out, exclaiming,
“Nerts!” just as we lay down our last two cards. No sooner does the phrase leave my mouth and Grandma and Aunt Elaine both exclaim,
“Cheaters! We were one card away from a Nerts! There’s no way you could have played before us!”
“I guess you’re just slow,” I explain as Daniel and I show our empty hands with a shrug, “maybe next round?"
“Nah,” Daniel exclaims, “we’ll get it next round too.”
“Oh, shut up,” Elaine shoots back, “I’m going to be watching you this time; no more cheating from you and then Mom and I will get have it in the bag.” These discourses continue every time a Nerts occurs and the ‘cheaters’ usually vary each round.
About halfway through the first game, we revert to more devious tactics as everyone starts loading up on leftover turkey, ham and pie (not necessarily in that order), which means one thing: gas warfare game two. The second game of Nerts no longer consists of empty accusations, now accusing a cheater results in a methane focused response that tends to clear the room of everyone except the vessel of the biological warfare. All of this interaction does make some bold statements about our family; for the sake of this essay we will ignore the fact that we’re a gross family with a twisted sense of humor; and focus beneath our outer layers to reveal the deep rooted love that allows us to tease each other and have a good time together. It is a love that manifests itself whenever we need something as the entire family jumps in wholeheartedly to meet the need.
This is the second component of my wealth – my family and the love that binds us together. I can identify with Thomas Bierowski because, through Christ and my family, I’m one of the “richest kids in town, this I know.”
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