I love my family, I really do, they're big and they're loud and they're just the tiniest bit nuts and I can't really stand them for extended periods of time because we're so completely different but I do love to see them and, over the years of family gatherings for everything I've grown accustomed to seeing them on a regular basis so I do start to miss them when I haven't seen them in a while.
At the latest family thing I shared a tiny little something with my cousin and I'm sure he didn't even register that it was anything at all but it made me smile.
3 of us were standing in the laundry, the originals from before the 3rd got 4 billion little siblings. The 1st was eating off a plate gathered together by Nonna before he went to work, a little bit of everything. One of the everything was a sausage roll, he offered it to us other two and we immediately both called dibs. The 3rd was quicker and scooped it up and took a bite. Then he handed the other half to me.
All it takes is one shared sausage roll, and I don't mean one of the normal sized ones, I mean one of the party pie ones, where you get like half a bite each, if you're lucky.
My cousins and I are insanely different, I'm studious and a bookworm, the good kid, they're, well...not. But that one little piece of sausage roll reminded me we're still family.
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