Archived Post

Hello, dear readers! It’s Amy here, your resident observer from the chaotic yet endlessly endearing Barone household. As I sit down to pen this little letter, my thoughts are swirling around a linguistic quirk that has become quite prevalent in our family dynamics—dysfunctional.

Now, don’t get me wrong; we’re not the only ones who use this term. It seems like everyone these days is talking about dysfunctional families, but let’s face it, the Barones have a special way of making it stick. You know how when something goes wrong in our house, it’s almost like there’s an invisible tag attached that says “dysfunctional”?

Take last week’s incident with the dishwasher, for example. One moment, everything was running smoothly—until Robert decided it would be a great time to rearrange all of the dishes inside. The next thing I knew, the water wasn’t draining properly, and we were stuck in what felt like an endless cycle of rinse and repeat. Now every time we think about washing dishes, “dysfunctional” is the word that pops into our heads.

But don’t let this distract you from the fact that despite—or perhaps because of—our dysfunctional tendencies, there’s something incredibly endearing about us. It’s like a family secret code—we’re all in on it, and it keeps us close. Even when things are at their worst, we can’t help but chuckle and say, “Well, if that wasn’t completely dysfunctional!”

Now, I know what you might be thinking: shouldn’t we try to fix our problems rather than giving them such a colorful label? But let’s be real—sometimes the best solution is to just laugh it off. It’s like when Robert accidentally breaks my favorite vase, and instead of getting upset, we all gather around to admire the rainbow-colored shards. After all, what’s one broken vase in the grand scheme of things?

But wait a minute—I hear you asking, “What about spelling? Isn’t there a correct way to spell ‘dysfunctional’?” Yes, indeed! According to most dictionaries and linguists, it should be spelled with a d, not an s. However, in our household, we’ve come up with a unique rule: if the problem is particularly complex or stubbornly refuses to be fixed, then disfunctional just seems more fitting. It’s like giving it a little extra flair!

So there you have it—the linguistic quirks of the Barone family. We’re not perfect, but that’s what makes us so lovable, isn’t it? If you ever visit our house and hear someone use the word ‘dysfunctional,’ just remember that we’re all in on a big, chaotic game of family fun. And hey, if it works for us, why should anyone else get to have all the fun?

Until next time, keep smiling through the chaos, and don’t forget to appreciate the little things.

With love,

Amy MacDougall-Barone