I know, I know. It’s like heresy to say that anything is better than books, right? It hurts me to admit it, too. But there is–at least for me–something so much better than books.
Today, I spent Christmas with my family. My mom and dad, one of my uncles, my brothers and their significant others (one’s married and one’s engaged), and my wife. It was just so nice. Everything was chill. Everything was beautiful. It was one of those rare holidays that you absolutely could not write a sitcom about. (There have been several holidays in my family that would inspire scripts upon scripts for a sitcom writer.)
We ate delicious food. We laughed a lot. We ate some more. We opened presents. Something I love about my family and the way we’ve morphed over the past few years is that we no longer make Christmas a big show. We’ve taken some of the materialism out of it and our gifts are few and thoughtful. My family used to have a history of extravagance, sometimes to the point of thoughtlessness, in our gift-giving. But I really enjoy this subdued thing we do now. And bonus points when we exchange something handmade.Read more