Sometimes, on Sundays, Great Grandma Sander invites us to brunch at her lovely retirement home. It's the sort of place you walk into and...

Sometimes, on Sundays, Great Grandma Sander invites us to brunch

at her lovely retirement home.

It's the sort of place you walk into and think,

"Boy, I'd love to live at a place like this when I'm old..."

It's also the sort of place that you can't walk into with two baby girls unless you're ready to be swarmed upon by sweet elderly ladies.

Sweet, they are, until you're in the most unorganized line when the doors to the dining hall open at 11am, and then it's every man for his own. I've been trampled by a couple walkers...

The brunch is a thorough buffet complete with chef-prepared omelettes, waffles, Eggs Benedict, French toast, desserts, sometimes lamb or prime rib...

...and Jello molds suitable for those who's heyday took place in the 1950s but which leave us playing the guessing game,

"Name the 5 Mystery Ingredients Layered in That Mold!"

There are still a few we have yet to figure out...

It is truly a lovely time spent with family after church.

We look forward to it every time we're invited.

Sometimes they put us in the private dining room off to the side...

...because they have learned that our party includes toddlers.

Who are wild when exposed to each other.

As if stuffing ourselves with the brunch buffet wasn't enough,

there's a dessert table that calls to us...

And Violet is always up for a visit with her cousins.

She fancies a pet from their small, sticky hands

while grandmothers fawn over her.

{Who doesn't?}

Oh, to be a baby again...

{How sweet is this picture of Violet with her big cousin, Moriah?

A framer, to be sure.}

After brunch we head upstairs to Great Grandma Sander's apartment where we dump our kids on Auntie Katie's lap for her to entertain them while the adults enjoy a brandy & cigars...

Just kidding.

We don't smoke around the baby, of course.

Last Sunday, Great Grandma Sander held Violet for the first time.

And she fussed, and then I felt bad. But oh well.

Maybe at the next Sunday brunch she will behave?