One summer night I looked around at our group of friends and realized they had become my “family”. Some I have known for several years, some just recently. We have a common bond that very few can understand. All that matters is that we understand it, we are dysfunction-ally functional.
Starting with three families of four, one boy and one girl each. Ages 18 – 6 at the time. We have the “Big Kids” and the “Little Kids”. They are all “our kids”. Age doesn’t matter. Size doesn’t matter. It’s the laughter and love for one another that’s what’s apparent. I casually mentioned that we should do a dinner every Sunday Night, rotating families to “host”. This way we all got a chance to check in with one another, not dread our Sundays, but actually look forward to them.
Of course the “little kids” were thrilled, the dads, eh, not so much, the “big kids” didn’t really care, and the moms, well, getting out of cooking every Sunday was a win in its own regard. What we didn’t realize was that our simple idea became something much greater than a Sunday Night Dinner.
We started to include other “family members” who share in our dysfunction. More big kids. Some 
nights its a competition of which Mom makes the dinner everyone likes the most. Can you please the 8 year old? Will he eat your dinner? And some nights we moms have epic fails that we are reminded about week in and week out. The two 12 year olds make the desserts. A big kid goes off to college. College kids come home for Sunday Night Dinner. Dads work late, moms drink wine.
We’ve been eating dinner on Sunday Nights now for almost two years. Very few times have we skipped. When we do, we genuinely feel like we’ve lost something. Like we can’t start our week. When only a handful of people understand you for you, and accepts you for the way you are, hold on to those people closely. Cherish them.