I thoroughly enjoy the little things in life, like finding crunchy leaves to step on. (BONUS: when you find $16 because you were looking at the ground for leaves to step on.)
I grew up as a military brat, so I've gotten really good at packing uHaul trucks. You haven't lived till you've driven a 26 foot uHaul with a full sized car trailer behind it in driving rain down an interstate.
I have two cats, named Snickers and Widget. I swear they're Pinky and the Brain reincarnated in real life. Snickers is super smart, and Widget...well, Widget is cute.
I love chocolate, I adore macaroni and cheese, and I just can't pass up a serving of frozen yogurt, all of which tells me one thing: I'm actually five.
By now, you've come to expect these comments from your passive aggressive mother during the holidays:
Hopefully, you’ll bring a grandchild home for Christmas before I die.
Your girlfriend/boyfriend is pretty/handsome enough.
You look like you’re eating well.
I'm so happy you're following your dreams. Your father and I had to stop when you were born so we could feed you.
You’re lucky you don’t have a job. I only get Christmas day off!
Do you think I’m getting wrinkly?
I know you like the opposite sex, but if you liked the same sex, I’d still support you.
Your father and I never make love.
For years no, you didn't really have answers lined up that would stop her in her tracks. Until now.
Here are the answers to all those questsions. Both the answer you WANT to give, and what you SHOULD say, you know, to maintain the holiday peace.