As I type this, I hear Mom and Bill clumping up the stairs to our front door. But they won't come in.
They're dropping off our Christmas presents and picking up theirs.
It sucks. We're T-1:45 hours from our annual Christmas Eve at Grandma Mary's and we're stuck in the house.
I shouldn't complain, but I didn't realize how much missing out on all the family festivities would suck big old hairy donkey balls.
Once we were sure they were well clear of our plague-infested door, Jay opened it to get our presents.
It immediately fixed my feeling-sorry-for-myself attitude.
Guess Christmas will be okay afterall.