Christmas was lovely and full of familial peace and harmony and 19 people for dinner and a really cool purse that was once a cigar box, many, many bottles of wine and just the leather dress gloves I wanted and prosciutto wrapped around slices of sweet canataloupe to start with, along with slices of tomato with bocconcini and Spanish onion, and baked pasta for dinner which, when my father makes it, is approximately 4 inces high, and manages to be both layered and smothered with cheese and tomato sauce, and then involtini after that, which is veal, wrapped around ham, wrapped around cheese wrapped around goodness and joy, and then there were more sweets than you can shake a stick at, and into the woods that is the night of Christmas there is bloated wanderings and games of tombola and stoppa and unbelievably, a 14 person game of Charades, except that three of us are deaf and so when someone else gets the pantomimed clue and yells it out, more frequently than not, the deaf players will shake their head 'no' because they misheard it, which leads to much misunderstanding and hilarity and Christmas becomes a cross between My Big Fat Greek Wedding and Three's Company, with a cast of 18 Italians, and a confused mangiacake boyfriend.
And there is much laughter.
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Just like last year. And God willing, just like next year.