This is the story of my Christmas.

Christmas Eve at my parents house = all that is awesome. I have video of drunken carol singing (including me and my tone deaf mother trying to perform Santa Baby), raunchy versions of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, and then there was the time where everyone broke off in the middle of dinner to see the wonder that is "How To Wrap Your Cat for Christmas" :

We were treated to no less than four showings of ST: TNG singing carols:

Captain Smithwell was totally surprised by my sneaky way of getting him Assassin's Creed IV, and I got a KINDLE, YOU GUISE!

Best of all, I ATED PRIME RIB WITHOUT DYING! IT WAS GLORIOUS!

But that was yesterday. Today we go see Captain Smithwell's family.

Now, I love his parents - I call them Mom & Dad. But I found out his sister and Über Literalist Bible Person™ uncle will be there. This is the sister I've already had major issues with, whose latest awesomeness was to support our favorite Ducks of the Dynasty pretty vociferously, conveniently forgetting about my two gay cousins, both of whom I love like younger siblings. Fuck you very much. ULBP, upon meeting my atheist family for the first time at Thanksgiving, had a wonderful time proselytizing about how the Bible is the WORD OF GOD, NO IFS ANDS OR BUTS (sigh) during dinner. Cap had an absolutely marvelous time defusing that time bomb.

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All of this is going to be present at his parents' house this afternoon/evening. You know, the house that is being overtaken by my MIL's hoarding. Guise - I spent two hours this past Saturday cleaning shit out of her pantry that was more than a year or two expired, as well as getting rid of rotten food in the fridge. I love Cap's parents, but if it weren't for the fact that I made sure to use all fresh food when I cooked with MIL on Saturday, I'd be afraid to eat anything.

I. Can't. Wait.