Friday, December 26

Tis the day after Christmas and all through the house not a creature is stirring, not even my mom getting up to raid the leftover cookie platter. The dirty dishes and ashtrays were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that the cleaning lady soon would be there to mop up that accident I'd like to forget about. The parents were nestled all comatose in their beds, while visions of bad eggnog and yesterday's drunken relatives danced like nightmares in their pounding heads. And mamma still in her Christmas dress, and I in my cap, had just settled down over the toilet for a long winter's vomit followed by nap.

I think you are starting to get the point... this one goes out to every one of you who wishes you could hide your family in a deep dark closet and throw away the key, because sometimes we can't all just get along:

Why, family, why?
Must you insist on drinking
Till you Christmas hurl?