How Baby

We had my side of the family’s Christmas dinner already, so we’ve already been treated to a preview of what Christmas hubbub looks like when you’re a growing tween: being old enough to socialize, just the right age to inhale absolutely everything put in front of you (and then some), and still being young enough to conk out after dinner like an overstimulated parrot.

I’m clinging to this holiday season with my fingernails, myself. Tokyo Drifting into the last weeks of the year, gas tank empty, engine on fire. You can gauge the health of the year by how passionately I embrace it being The Goddamn Holidays, and between three jobs, three cancers, one death, and the accelerating awfulness of things I can’t control, I am feeling the fucking spirit this year. At least I’m getting a lot of (stress) baking done.

As we all in our own traditions close out the year, I hope this time is a time of peace for you – whether you’re kicking back and enjoying it, or shaking it in your teeth until the peace falls out, like me. Happy holidays, and may goodness and light prevail, once more, over the darkness.

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TRANSCRIPT:

(No dialogue; Momo is chatting an accepting presents at 6:05PM, inhaling a plate of food between 6:06-6:59, and then conked out on the table while the party continues around her at 7PM)