There are dozens if not many movies made about the festering dysfunction that makes itself known around this time of year. Office parties where the owner’s wife gets handsy after a couple Gimlets. Stepbrother faking gay to stop the “meet a nice girl” onslaught. Moms. Condense that into 2 weeks of heated indoors, sweaters, power-drinking, and giving-induced guilt trips and VOILA, it’s the Holidays, assholes!

This year was a bit more exciting for us with 2 boys.  Most notably was the influx of disease that marked the entire month of December.  First-boy got double pink-eye, gave it to to New-boy.  First-boy gets a cough, gives it to everybody.  Mom beats it, dad beats it.  Slowly roiling in New-boy, it turns to a chest cold, which is serious for a 7 week-old.  Our entire holiday season was notably red with the pink of eyes, and green with the mucous of love.

So, long story shortened up, we’re spending next Christmas in a tropical place far away from everybody and especially my grandmother who can’t stop asking questions about shit nobody cares about.