Merry Christmas, from Scrooge the Grinch.

I doubt any of y'all will ever guess what my middle name is. So, I will antie it up to 20 pps. But I'm not going to dote over it, so just guess at your leisure.

You know you've been from your family too long when you're having christmas eve dinner and the table is quiet. At one point me and my cousin were going to share a leg. He made the joke that I could have the bone half. I laughed. I then said "Speaking of bone, how's Bone (my grampa's dog)?" The table gets quietter and more uncomfortable. My aunt gives me the thumbs down. My cousins stare down at their plate. My grampa in the most stoic voice I have ever heard from such an animated man, says "He's dead... He got ran over... I couldn't let go of his body for three days..." My grandma then starts to change the conversation. I also get EXTREMELY uncomfortable and start making stupid jokes about the food and mumbling something or another... Somehow after a few more depressing comments from my grandpa the conversation moved on...


I lost it. I've lost that connection. How did I do that? Was it me? Is it them? They have girlfriends now. My cousins. They didn't tell me about them. I was the one that brought it up. Even after a few questions they didn't feel like opening up. Since when did they feel so astranged to me?

I hate Christmas. I'm going to grow old and alone. On purpose.

Zanzibar, I don't know how I feel about your comment.
I'm sure you don't either.

Well at least it wasn't really your fault that you didn't know the dog was dead. I think it would've been worse if you'd just forgotten.
» randomjunk on 2006-12-25 04:12:39

Nothing's guaranteed with my memory...
» elessar257 on 2006-12-25 01:50:17

Father
I hate dead beat dads!! Bastards!
» kKaMa67 on 2006-12-28 12:12:20

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