Family. Blended.

Family. Blended. The Brady Bunch. Shattered glass ceilings 50 years ago. Spot on portrayal of modern life in 2022. Ground breaking. Too young to watch it first time. But all episodes seen pre-teen. Remember the iconic squares showing each family member. Can sing all the words to the irritatingly catchy theme tune. I won’t. Now living the sitcom. Somewhat surreal.

Dad Brady was called Mike. They had six children. Three each. Two of my five from a previous relationship. The show made the brilliant point about the only step in the house being to the first floor. Children were just children. No additional labels. The storylines were about love and being one. Difference didn’t matter.

Episodes captured those awkward adjustments. For us. Age differentials. Teenager. Teethers. Tantrums. Bouncers. Braces. Dreamsleeps. Dreamer. Attitude. Abacus. Underlying. A strong bond. Sense of unity.

Blend is often depicted as a negative. Something diluted. A blended red wine is allegedly seen as cheaper. Second rate. I think it gives something extra. A kick. Spice. Not available from just one grape.

I recognise for so many people there is no family. The festive period exacerbating feelings of isolation. Time ticks even slower. Noise is not an option. Outliers in a world that turns abnormal. Thoughts have been with you. Happy New Year from Bunch Adams.

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