The low light of my own trip was being asked by my mother why I was so irritated to be there and explaining patiently that A) dad snores in a way fit to completely prevent anyone else sleeping (which is why she slept in another room) and I had therefore acquired a meagre total of 10 hours of sleep in 48 hours; B) her niece is so negative that she even makes me wrinkle my nose (and you all know by now what a caustic jerk I can be, so she's pretty damn extremely negative); C) I don't care for ham, since it makes me nauseated and has for 15 years-- yet nothing with protein in it could be offered to me that was not ham; D) I was rather hurt that she was incapable of thinking that pants she bought me 2 years ago might be a smaller measurement than I now wear, given that I've put on a great deal of weight... and E) I just didn't want to be there. Her response was the low point- she started crying. I was not even allowed to answer her honestly, apparently.
As part of my new years' resolutions for 2003, I'm going to promise myself I am never leaving town for christmas again in my life.
Rule number one: Only mothers get to have hurt feelings.
Rule number two: Mothers frame instructions as questions. You are not supposed to answer the question, but to take the disguised hint. The proper response to, "Why are you so irritated to be here?" is, "Oh, I'm not--did I seem like I was? I'm just a little sleepy from all the excitement, but I'm happy as a pig in shit!"
Rule number three: Don't say "shit" to your mother.
...at least they're not Jesus freaks who still resent the fact that you Have Strayed From The Flock, and remind you regularly that they're praying for you to return to God. That makes for an interesting Christmas, sure, but 'interesting' isn't always a good thing.