You Can't Spell "Dysfunctional" Without F-U-N!

It's always "wonderful" to come home for the holidays. I "love" seeing the rest of the family and I really "enjoy" hearing about how "successful" the rest of the kids are doing.

It's a "pleasure" to have Mom ask when I'm going to get a "real" job, to watch my "siblings" getting celebrated by Dad, getting to "explain" what I do to everyone else, and hearing the "amused" reaction to it.

It's always "great" when the nieces and nephews shout that the "turkey" has arrived, as I sit at the table.

There is constant "praise" about my older brother's law practice, and how he has a "wife." There is talk of how he doesn't smoke cigars in the laundry room, and how "other people" do.

The meal was "delicious" as my dad carved up a heaping helping of "crow" for me to eat. It's always a "treat" to have him "celebrate" me in his own special way.

Especially "delightful" was dessert time, when everyone has coffee and pie and goes on about what they're doing with their "lives." The children are out of earshot and people can "say" what's actually on their "minds."

The "joy" of sitting in total "silence" with nothing but the Cowboys and Redskins game in the background, having people "not" staring at me and those other rugrats yelling "last one in is an 'Uncle Craig,'" I'm telling you, just like the Mastercard commercial, it's "priceless."

I was supposed to stay until Sunday, but I think I'm coming back tomorrow, to beat the "rush."

Hope your Thanksgiving was at least as "lovely" as mine!

"Proud."