W.A.C.T.Y.

Since I am new to cyberspace, I might as well make my introduction. And there is no knowing me without knowing the Wellmans (the eleven people I shared a bathroom with for eighteen years). Being a Wellman makes me something unique. In fact, it may be the only entity in my total package that has “wow factor.” For I have never met a person (inside the Mormon community and out) that has a larger family than mine. To this day I can raise eyebrows and drop jaws at the mere mention of my number of siblings in casual conversation. So there must be something special in my experience, and it’s nice to think that because of them, I’m something special.

So if ten kids to two parents (no halves, no steps) doesn’t impress you, imagine what we’re like now that my mom is on the verge of empty nesting and 80% of us are married and reproducing at a rapid rate. Today I actually have 16 siblings if you count my in-laws. Imagine nine sisters occupying every available chair at a pedicure parlor, or bustling between platters and appliances to prepare a meal for fifty mouths. Then, picture seven adult brothers roaring at a UFC broadcast on the big screen, ravaging desert shrubs in a dusty paintball battle, or finding new ways to wound one another in swimming pool basketball. And if you still don’t think us something spectacular, think about the 27 grandkids (first cousins) ranging in ages from post-pubescent to barely born. Picture them extracting a million Easter eggs out of their hiding places in ten seconds flat; and instantaneously covering the carpet Christmas morning with an explosion of ripped ribbons and wrapping paper, and lined up beside the pulpit in the front of the chapel singing “I am a child of God” at a baptism. Impressed yet?

Then picture my dad looking down, from somewhere clean and white if you picture it like I do, either watching longingly or chuckling with amusement; because he left just when things were really getting good, and he can’t believe how far we’ve come and how much we’ve grown and how happy we are. And hopefully he feels responsible for it all. At the very least he sees it, and even if no one else is, he’s impressed.

Why the funny acronym in the title of this post? That's a shout-out to my brothers and sisters from the imaginary radio station of our youth - WACTY

(Wellmans Are Cooler Than You).