Yesterday was the apparent birthday of Jesus Christ and the only time I caught recognition of that was hearing Jesus Christ ____ is a dip shit. I think that it is a special occasion that makes me afraid to die and go to heaven. Going a whole eternity watching other people getting gifts on your birthday would make me a little more selective on who gets into my club.
That being said, the holiday season is a great time for understanding. I now understand the looks from across the room. I understand who I am supposed to hate because they wronged someone else than me. I understand that even though my last living grandma is in the ICU, we all should sit down to our first deep fried turkey. I used to think C'est le vie was french for such is life, I know understand it means "the will is set."
The family gathering is like the main event for the heavy weight boxing title. Everyone gathers round in nice clothing to watch two monkeys swing below the belt. The holidays are supposed to be this swell time for all to ignore their bills, health issues, or cheating slut wives (maybe) and sit pleasantly while the Savings and Loan goes belly up.
Another year passess, I seem to have gotten taller to my distant relatives. However, that is not really true. I just appear that since I have not seen them in ohh, I don't know a year. They are all very nice to me and I love the time we talk. It is very entertaining since I spend half the time trying to remember their spouses' names. It's kind of like in those heist movies when they are unscrambling the entry code. I digress.
Part of my compulsive analysis of myself lies in my bodylanguage. I am always thinking that my face or body is completely contradicting my words. I say that I am interested in hearing more yet I am starting to stretch my leg as it falls asleep. Then there is the children.
I care for children on the holidays like a plate of tuna at a steak house. Alright I get it, you're having sex. No need to rub it in or be a live action abstinance endorsement. I feel bad for the kids because their parents already think I am freakishly tall, what is going on in their heads when I stand near them? "Don't move, he's probably like a T-Rex- if I stay still he won't see me."
I really wish I could get a grip on the holidays. I love my family but it just seems that like TNT, we know drama too. Maybe that's why everyone I know my age is running off and getting married. They want to make their own holiday memories brighter than the generations past. The only catch is that they tend to stick around to critique the first few ones.