So here we are. Family Day, it says on our calendars. Hangover Monday might be a more accurate description. Or:
- Small Reward For Freezing Your Nuts Off Day
- Staying in Bed and Eating Oreos for Lunch Without Worrying About Trans-Fats or Crummies Day
- Gutless Pandering to the Electorate Day
- "Fuck you, Walmart, you have to close 9 times a year now, bitch!" Day.
Of course, if we were actually obligated to spend time with our families on this day, we'd have to call it Dysfunctional Family Day. I mean, not all of us are singing-around-the-campfire, playing-catch-with-dad, wholesome-conversation-over-spaghetti, go-out-in-public-together-without-consuming-hard-liquor kind of people. There certainly hasn't been any rousing boys vs girls pond hockey followed by cookies still warm from the oven and hot chocolate and matching sweaters knit my grandma for me.
Not that I'm complaining.