The Food Chain of Events

Thanksgiving. It marks the start of the Christmas season. It rallies family members far and wide to a table of primarily white or pale food. It gets said family talking, accompanied by the celebratory libations. Which usually gets us giggling. Which makes us antagonistic. Then it makes us debate. It makes us argue. It makes us curse. It makes us yell profanities, while covering children ears, eventually yelling at them (the innocent) to go to bed. It makes us question ourselves. It makes us sad. It makes us quiet. It makes our heads hurt. It makes us a little dizzy, and possibly a little nauseous. It makes us go to sleep in our clothes. It makes us dream about dying. It makes us apologize in the morning. But it makes us rethink the apology all day. It makes us regret apologizing. It makes us consider bringing up the awful topic again, this time without libations. It makes us mad. But it makes us want to be the bigger person. It makes us act like strange zombies all day to our children, as we reenact previous conversations in our head. It makes us answer our spouse's questions with curt one-words. It makes us realize we wasted an entire day. It reminds us to... (deep breath) sweat the small things. It relaxes us once again. It makes us thankful (finally) for what and who we have around us. Which makes us hungry for leftovers. Which makes us reach for the celebratory libations once more. Which makes us giggly...

And that, my friends, is only the dress rehearsal for Christmas.

In the case of my family (and what a case it is), I can honestly say that I've exaggerated the week's course of events above. There was a little of that [above], but not nearly as much as years past. And for that, I'm grateful. A few family member impersonations never hurt anyone right? Get over it, Grandma.

In honor of my family's family-ness, and to which I want none other, I post the best family photo of all time here. But perhaps I think this only because they're mine: My mother is on the far right. Uncle Nat is top right, Uncle Dave is bottom middle. Grandpa intimidates the cameraman, while Grandma throws a sultry glance at the cameraman. I love my family.