Last December we made the six hour trip across the treacherous snowy pass in order to see our adorable
great-niece and nephew niece Tomi and her family. It was a wonderful bonus that Shaun’s sister happened to be visiting from Alaska at the same time. (Coincidence? I think not)
Once we had a chance to thaw out and relax, Shaun promptly got to work at tormenting Tomi’s children. He decided that it would be a good idea to teach them all about zombies…and what they eat.
I remember apologizing and looking helplessly at Tomi as my husband, two teenage daughters and her two preschoolers raced about the house. Half of them were screaming with fearful delight while the other half stumbled along like sleepwalkers tonelessly chanting, “Must eat brains”.
Knowing that what passes for normal in our household is considered disturbing in most homes (even those of relatives), I cringed to see what Tomi’s reaction would be. She merely shrugged and said our girls had turned out fine so she wasn’t worried about exposing her little ones to Shaun for a weekend. Then she offered me more coffee. (I always did like that girl)
Last weekend, we went back to visit again. (Twelve hours of commute time doesn’t make for frequent visiting!) To our
chagrin amusement delight those sweet babies were still playing the Zombie Game. In addition, they had come up with a wonderful name for their great-Uncle Shaun…we now call him Uncle Zombie.
I couldn’t name him better myself…