The bit I hate about Christmas.
Spent the day with my father’s side of the family yesterday. Dad was there, looked old and frail. I was shocked at his appearance, actually.
Today, unto my mother’s house. Haven’t been there for 3 years. Kids are coming with, united front. As long as M20 isn’t a knob to me or his sister F17 (he was a knob in the car on the way home yesterday: it’s the stress of family time showing through), we’ll be ok.
Ride of the Valkyries or the Funeral March?!
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Good luck! I hope it goes well.
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