So, I’m home for the holidays. In my mind, it always seems like it will be so quiet, routine, relaxing, you know…idealistically different from my normal crazy schedule of driving across cotton fields for 5-6 hours a day. Well, it seems that I just always forget what it’s really like coming home.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. I love everything about them. I love that it’s a bit wild and crazy and at any given moment, you feel like there should be an alarm going off alerting bystanders of something outlandish happening. And, to be honest, I have a tendency to be hyperbolic at times…and so what’s happening probably isn’t even that wild. It’s just, perhaps…well, maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the crazy one.

When I think back on what happened today, it actually wasn’t that wild. Mainly it was just the dogs barking all day. Er…well, one dog barking. But seriously, it barked all day long nonstop. It barked at crumbs on the floor. At people on the TV.  It barked at the non-barking dog, Biscuit. It barked at me while I was eating lunch. It barked when I typed on my computer. It actually was just barking at me now as I’m typing. The only thing that will make it stop barking is Pat giving it the evil stare. If you know Pat, and you’ve seen him give the evil stare to Biscuit, you know what I’m talking about.

The dog’s stopped barking now because it’s eating. Hopefully it will keep eating over this entire break. I hope it gets fat over the next two weeks. I hope it gains 20 pounds. Maybe not, that seems mean. But still…the barking’s meaner.


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