Today is Christmas Eve. The house is cleaned and the food is prepared. My mom and her husband are now over at my grandparent's, house cleaning up my grandpa after a day of incontinence and sad oldness. As silly as this sounds, it takes something like this weirdness to make me feel like I am with family. Something has to be eventful, otherwise it's just too bland. I need spice in my life. Now, it could have come from any number of other directions, such as Uncle Don's dog taking grandma for a run, and dragging her on her tummy across the lawn (morbid, I know, but still funny). Or how about having to get a call from the development's manager saying my grandpa had been changing in front of an open window again and neighbors were complaining, or maybe an Uncle trying to pin up Christmas lights and slipping off a ladder and almost breaking his neck, even though it was only a 2' drop. These things are what makes my family mine. And I love it.