And….as is usually the post-holiday, trip back home, case, I am struggling.

Mom was good….well, ok. It would have helped morale if she’d answered the door on Saturday morning, the scheduled day of our visit, in something other than her bathrobe and bedraggled hair. But, our visit was decent and fairly noneventful. Yay for the team.

In the moments leading up to said visit, however, Charlie Brown was a major blockhead. For what it’s worth, I was too. Suffice it to say that I’m still feeling hurt and I don’t feel removed enough from the incident to rationally talk about it, yet.

Kids, I’m sorry for what will likely be remembered as an air-quoted happy family memory – please send me the bill in 20 years – I’ll gladly pay it to appease the guilt.

*sigh* This is where I get sucked into the trap of feeling sorry for myself. Can someone lend a hand out of the Pity Pit?

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