Families Weekend is a weekend like no other. All of campus is bustling with chaos and fun, with students showing their families around our very scenic campus. As a senior, however, I have witnessed many Families Weekends come and go. My family has frequented Families Weekends all three times it has occurred during my time at Vassar. The fact that I live less than an hour away doesn’t really make it a difficult decision.
And before I start writing this article, I will say that I love my family very much and if any of them are reading this…you are being used for the sake of humor, and I hope you can forgive me. If any of you do not approve of my attempts to write a satisfying humor article, then you should have raised me to be an unfunny person when you had the chance.
Now, my family is not unusual by any means. Overall, I would say they are pretty normal people. However, when we are all in the same room together, chaos always seems to ensue.
Let’s start off with the furry member of the family, my father’s beloved dog, Frank. I would have to say that Frank is the most emotionally unique dog that I have ever met in my life. My dad adopted him a couple years back, and let’s just say that he is a very strange dog. He does not bark; rather, he screams. This screaming occurs most hours of the day, unless he is being pet or given lots and lots of attention. So you can imagine my reaction when I saw him hop out of the car on Saturday morning and run straight into my kitchen to commence said screaming.
Now let’s get to his owner. Pat D’Antonio, my father. As I was thinking of humor articles for this week, I knew that he would appreciate the shout out, and it would give him a little ego boost to know that all five of my readers now know who he is. Pat is a funny guy, there is no denying that. But that doesn’t mean that I am not terrified anytime he interacts with my friends, worried that he will make an insane joke that makes no sense and results in a bunch of confused, awkward laughter.
That tension is usually dissolved by my lovely sister, Ally. Ally not only has a full job and is incredibly independent, but she is also possibly the nicest person in the world. This is a shame because I am probably the worst sister in the world and only respond to her with my bitchiest behavior possible.
That bitchy behavior is reprimanded by my lovely mother, Wendy. Wendy is a saint. She helps me with everything that I need help with and is available to listen to me complain 24 hours a day. This weekend, she supplied our home with baked goods and toilet paper, which we were in desperate need of. She is also a former comedian, so this weekend when I asked her if she had any ideas for my column, she responded with, “Why don’t you just write about lying like you always do?” I took that as a no.
The only family member who was not able to make it was my twin brother, Rocky. There is not much you need to know about him. He is the same as me, but six feet tall with curly hair and glasses.
Overall, families can be tough and fun. Whether it’s comforting a screaming dog at 9 a.m. while your mother is inspecting the cleanliness of your kitchen or trying to stifle any inappropriate jokes coming out of your father’s mouth, they are always there when you need them.