home for christmas. just me and my parents, our (their?) 15-year-old bird, lots of time in the kitchen and dinners on the table. no brothers or sisters-in-law, no nieces or nephews. eight under one roof is a lot of people (and personality), but it’s enjoyable. alas, gone are the days where all three boys coming home is a sure thing. (i’d be lying, though, if i didn’t say the calmer-than-usual atmosphere is a bit pleasant.)
extra pickles
other vices: busch light, dance floors
