Ah, Christmas

My mother hosted Christmas this year and my mother’s sister and her husband were there in addition to my brother’s fiance on top of the Robinson Four.  The order of the evening was to quickly get buzzed and begin the airing of disdain for the rest of humanity.  If the purpose of a grace is to unify the gathered eaters behind an idea than this years was “Oprah, I hate that shit”.  In addition to this, the nature of old was revealed to me:

Uncle: Terry, you’ll learn that as you age you just don’t care.  If Mike Vic were on my fantasy football team, I’d say those dogs asked for it.

I also learned the curious fact that my aunt has no fingerprints.  She attempted to re-register for her alien registration card, they found she had no finger prints, and they told her to come back in a week like the fingerprint fairy is going to appear and grand her whorls, ridges, and valleys about her digits.

Merry Christmas