We Come for Mountains and Cafe Rio

Every year for the last, oh, ten years or so, my very un-Mormon Chen cousins (and our honorary cousin friends) descend, from all over the country, upon Salt Lake City to take the slopes by storm, eat disgusting amounts of Cafe Rio sweet pork barbacoa, play a stupid horse racing board game, hot tub and have a good time. Andy and I are the very-Mormon contingent praying to redeem the souls of our fallen relatives and generally trying to save our rental house from being struck by lightning.

I think age and children have toned down the debauchery and volume of our family gatherings, but not the hilarity and fun. I love love love spending time with my cousins. Raunchy, loud, bacon-gobbling, nerdy-Star-Wars-game-playing, fun-loving people that they are. We missed the people who couldn’t make it this year; you people better block off your calendars for 2017!

I didn’t snowboard this year; so, we visited close friends and family instead. These are people I love so much that every time we see them, Andy and I have a serious conversation about moving to Utah. ME. In UTAH. Mind not computing.

The trip bonus? Andy and I volunteered to be bumped to a later flight in exchange for airline vouchers. So, next year’s flights are already handled! Vince, start planning please!

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