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Thursday, November 25, 2010

Nothing Original Means Nothing Original

     It's just not Thanksgiving until someone fights. It's just not.  The preparation, the food, the little things we do to hang out together and be entertained - all that means nothing until the arguments ensue. Ours centered around drawing names for Christmas, and I'm not sure how we got there or how it ended or even really what was said. I heard only the tone of the words and saw the irritated faces.  My only quip was that I thought we should be good Catholics and lie to each other about how we really feel and no one laughed, but I still thought it was moderately funny.

     My only irritation was I was pretty sure we decided last year we weren't drawing names. Everyone knows who has who and tells what they want and shopping turns into a chore instead of fun and sometimes you even get in some form of currency the $100 we set as the limit. But oh well. The Taylor Swift special distracted me from wanting to say more than "I thought we weren't drawing names this year!" Besides that, Ava was yanking on my earrings and trying to turn on the Escalade with my remote keypad. I had other issues during the storm. 

     Aside from the minor dramatic flare of personalities at the witching hour, it was fun as usual. Lots of laughing, some good stories and the usual teasing,  But know what? I miss my family.  I miss my grandmother and my sisters and my brothers and my mom.  And.  Andandandandand. The secretest, quietest, privatest thing?  I. Miss. My. Dad.

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