I tried to think of something untrite to write about for the holidays.
It didn't work.

But i really do love it and love them. I love the bustling women in aprons carrying steaming trays of whatnot while the men try to be helpful, but really only succeed in making drinks for their tired ladies. And we laugh and tell stories that we've heard so many times we don't know if we actually remember it or just remember hearing about it.
And everyone smiles and smiles because we really do love eachother, we just need a holiday to show it. And everyone feels warm and a little too full, and we attach the feeling to anything we can, a smell, a sound, a taste, a sound, because we know that soon, break will be over. It smells like dressing and perfume and VandTs and turkey and cranberrys and wood paneling. It is warm and golden and soft and awake. It is music and food and family and us.

its trite.
but true.