An unmerry Christmas
On the whole it wasn't totally bad, just kind of unmerry.
To put it simply, the wife and our son still do not get along. I think I'm getting tired of the subtle disrespect for each other. I don't know how many years this can continue. It's depressing, actually.
There was a good foot and a half of snow at my son's new house when we arrived Christmas Eve and it was snowing. The wind was blowing, too. Frankly, it looked rather nice, but the wind was making it miserable. When we woke Christmas morning there was at least six inches on top of our new car, but the wind had stopped. We gave our son a decorative Santa, a gardening book, and a bottle of twelve-year-old single malt Scotch. He gave us nothing. Frankly, we expected nothing.
We drove home Christmas day. We weren't expected to stay any longer.
I suppose I shouldn't expect too much out of any of this since our son basically left our lives at fifteen and didn't come back until nearly fifteen years later. Ties get broken and aren't easily put back together.
It could've been very depressing, but I'm already depressed enough to cover it. I think maybe I should call the shrink. It's not that I feel bad, but I don't feel good, either. It's kind of like being on the constantly tired, unhappy side of okie-dokie. I'm still sleeping a lot.
Oh, yeah, the Subaru Forester won out and is sitting in our driveway. It's Silver with gray leather interior. Having it makes me feel good.
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