Like Stretchy Pants

I spent this past weekend in Oklahoma, the land of my birth, the home of my soul, the source of my twang.

This trip was fast but filled to the brim of everything I love. We ate a lot, we talked even more and we sat around looking at each other, soaking up all that we had missed and everything we had experienced together.

Our discussions included (but were not limited to): pizza, nude beaches, Alamosa, cupcakes, OU football, the 4th of July, my grandpa, hair, gray hair, ping pong, cheating at board games, children, church, chips and queso, sleep apnea, Sonic milkshakes, colonoscopies, chickens and pregnant cows.

You know, typical.

Oh, and we also talked about my dating life, which is always awesome.

I may even say this was my favorite trip, and that's saying a lot, especially since we have had some epic talent shows, golf tournaments and Velveeta dips. This mini-reunion was like wearing your favorite pair of stretchy pants: comforting, familiar and forgiving.

Long live stretchy pants. And long live my family.