Come on...who has ever really roasted chestnuts on an open fire? Who the heck is Parson Brown? And why in the world does no one EVER talk about how poisonous mistletoe can be if accidentally ingested? The holidays-- stress, bankruptcy, and a house full of toxins. No thank you. Oh and aunt Lisa's pudding--a culinary wonder somehow more green and less solid each season. Survival advice: find liquor, stay near it, and pretend to know NOTHING about the election.
Then again, perhaps there is a little magic too. Soft falling snow, a fire place, huddled at the dining table--all the dishes are clean-- and team Mom and Brother are kicking ass in Euchre and Mario Kart. And good ol' aunt Lisa, drunk and wrestling Minx, her thirteen year-old, three-legged English terrier, hardly offended that ninety percent of the green goo remains. Instead, she's blissful to be nearest the ones she loves (who, coincidentally, can also drive her home in a few hours). Ah sweet mercy! What's that I hear? The gurgle-grumble of dad's full stomach as thick flatulent wafts suffocate, killing all who breathe. This is the capstone and truest endorsement of mom's 2-day marathon in the kitchen.
Whether you've been naughty or nice; whether sleigh bells are ringing high and loud, or whether it's as simple as leftovers and a phone call, may your holiday be bright.
I have an aunt Lisa.
I will be hearing about this.
Newsletter: Voice Within
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