. . . conclusion of prior post . . . .
Went over to out-laws for Christmas Dinner. The chubby S-I-L knew to stay the phuck outta my way. I am fairly convinced my no-show at her breakfast made the point, as she steered damn clear of me, 'cept for the utmost polite of dinnertime manners. She even played uber-helper for the stepmother-in-law, making sure each of the 30 assembled dinner guests had enough to eat, clearing their plates, filling their drink glass (not to mention her own), yadda. Whatever. Have another cookie, you cow.
Outlaws were okay, apparently on their best behavior, too. If not for The Cow's bullshit the night before, we'd have been much more comfortable. But Dr. J and I were on edge, understandably.
Still, we survived Christmas Day. Sigh. But it was bittersweet, with tears sprinkled in. How could they not be? We'll never forget what this day was supposed to be. Never. I highly doubt I will ever be able to enjoy this holiday ever again.
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